Lost Girl
by SouthernBlossom
Summary: Eleven year old Hannah is on a mission to find her family. Rated M for possible spanking of minors and mention of abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**So, writing in the "Once Upon a Time" world is a new thing for me. I've loved the show since the first season, but I hadn't tried anything until now. Feedback would be helpful! The general idea for this story came courtesy of Lovatic-once-upon-a-time.**

* * *

Bare feet crept through the darkness toward the front door. The owner of said feet moved with care, shoes in one hand and a backpack slung over the corresponding shoulder. She held her breath as she reached the door, glancing around to assess her surroundings. Relieved that she was still alone, her free hand reached out to slowly turn the knob. Never in her life had she taken so long just to open a door, but she couldn't risk being heard. If someone caught her, things would turn nasty in a flash.

She pulled the door ajar, just enough to silently squeeze through, and then, with just as much care, closed the door behind her. The hard concrete felt rough and cold beneath her feet, but she didn't dare put her shoes on just yet. She needed to put some distance between the house and herself before she stopped for any reason.

Pulling the hood of her sweatshirt over her head, Hannah Stevens took off down the sidewalk at a brisk pace. As she did so, she shifted her backpack in front of her so she could deposit her shoes. A passerby might not notice her bare feet, but she'd attract more attention carrying her shoes in her hand. Every so often, she would glance over her shoulder, checking to make sure she wasn't being followed or attracting unwanted attention. Mr. Flint would be furious when he realized she was gone, which Hannah hoped wouldn't be until the following morning. It wouldn't bode well for her if he caught up with her.

Running away had been a last minute decision, and although she didn't regret doing it one bit, Hannah hadn't had time to formulate much of a plan. She had an idea of her destination, but how to get there – that was the issue. It would be tough, an eleven-year-old trying to travel a couple hundred miles under the radar. At the moment, Hannah figured that once she put enough distance between herself and the Flints' house, she could worry about the other specifics.

Hannah wasn't sure how far she'd walked, but a glance at the small, worn watch on her wrist indicated that nearly an hour had passed. Her feet ached, both from the cool spring air and the rough pavement. Satisfied that she could spare a moment of rest, she ducked into a wooded area along the road and sat down. Setting her backpack on the ground beside her, she pulled out a worn pair of sneakers and socks. Indulging in the opportunity to rest, she examined the bottoms of her feet, realizing with dismay that the skin was scratched and even broken in a few spots. Band-aids would have been nice right then. Unfortunately, she hadn't thought to bring anything first aid related. Her backpack, now lighter without the shoes, contained all of the money she'd saved, which wasn't much, a couple of snacks, an envelope, and her one comfort – a worn, stuffed bear she'd had since she was a baby.

She winced as she tugged the socks onto her feet, and gingerly slipped on her sneakers. Lacing them tightly enough to help ensure she didn't trip but not so tight that her soles hurt more, Hannah pushed herself to her feet and once more slung the backpack over her shoulder. Her feet still hurt, but at least they were warmer, and Hannah could move at an even quicker pace if necessary.

Returning to the road, Hannah saw lights up ahead – not traffic lights, but the lights from a business. She couldn't tell how much farther it was, but perhaps it would give her a chance to regroup and plan how to get from Massachusetts to Maine.

* * *

As it turned out, the lights Hannah saw illuminated a small gas station, as the girl discovered when she reached the destination twenty minutes later. The lot was deserted, save a single pickup truck parked beside a gas pump. From the edge of the property, hidden behind a tree, Hannah could spot a woman emerging from the driver's side, a cell phone pressed to her ear. It wasn't that far of a distance, so Hannah could just make out some of the woman's conversation.

"I know it's late… Yeah, you know me, I'm a night owl. I'm stopping now for gas and a snack, but I think I'm going to drive straight through to Rockland."

Hannah had been studying New England geography every chance she got. She knew there was a Rockland in Massachusetts, but it wasn't terribly far from her home. It didn't make sense that this woman would talk about driving to Rockland without stopping like it was a big deal. The only other Rockland Hannah knew of in New England was in Maine. She was sure there were other Rocklands outside of New England, but Hannah had to remain optimistic that the woman was heading north.

After a minute, the woman tucked away her cell phone and moved to put gas in her vehicle. Hannah waited, hoping the woman would need to go into the convenience store. As luck had it, several minutes later, the woman headed for the brightly lit building. Recognizing this might be her only chance Hannah crept over to the truck. Careful not to be seen, Hannah peered into the flatbed of the pickup. She saw a tarp covering what appeared to be a few boxes by the shape of the mound. Hopefully, the woman wouldn't have a need to look in the back before reaching her destination.

Glancing around, half expecting to be caught at any moment, Hannah climbed into the bed of the truck. Lifting the tarp, she shifted the boxes slightly and curled up on her side, making sure her entire body was covered by the tarp. With any luck, no one would see her until she at least made it into Maine.

The waiting was nerve-wracking. She imagined the worst – being discovered, the woman calling the police, the police escorting her back to the Flints – and Hannah really didn't want to think about what would happen then. Subconsciously she rubbed her shoulder, wincing at the lingering soreness from the days old bruise.

It wasn't until she heard the engine roar to life and the truck begin to move that she finally let out a sigh of relief. She was safe, and she should be at least until the next stop. She told herself she needed to stay alert, so she'd be ready when the woman reached her destination. However, the gentle sway of the truck as it traveled along the highway left Hannah feeling drowsy, and she soon drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Several hours later, Hannah awoke with a start. Mentally scolding herself for dozing off, she tried to assess the situation. From beneath the tarp, she could tell it was still dark outside. The truck was no longer moving, but she couldn't hear any signs of traffic. Cautiously she lifted the tarp and peeked over the sides of the truck bed. She was in a driveway. From her spot she could see the road, despite the lack of street or house lights to illuminate her surroundings. Twisting to look behind her, she saw a modest house surrounded by trees.

So, she was in Rockland. It looked like a relatively rural area, but she still needed to get moving. Just because she was in Maine didn't mean she was out of the clear. She made sure she had her backpack before climbing over the side of the truck. Feet on pavement once more, she looked around. The road would be easy enough to take, but a little voice inside her head was telling her to take to the woods instead. Without sunlight to light her way, the even darker woods seemed ominous; however, the pull was too great.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Hannah walked straight toward the sea of trees. She didn't know exactly which direction to take, so she kept going straight. Twigs and leaves crunched beneath her feet, and she listened with vigilance for any sign of danger – whether from humans or animals. She had no idea what animals possibly lived in these woods, and she hoped she wouldn't run into anything potentially dangerous, like a bear or a big cat or a coyote. The woods were surprisingly quiet. Hannah didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

She could just catch the faint glimmer of light on the horizon when she finally reached the other side of the woods. A road stretched in either direction, and as she glanced to her right, she noticed what looked like a small town up ahead. Turning to view the opposite direction, she spied a sign in the distance. The sun had yet to rise, but the few rays of light available reflected off the large, green rectangle, so Hannah could still make out the words. _Leaving Storybrooke._ She could hardly believe it.

She'd done it.

She'd made it to Storybrooke.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time she reached what appeared to be the main street of Storybrooke, the sun had officially risen on the horizon. She still felt tired, but Hannah wasn't about to go curl up in the woods. Even being in Storybrooke – a place _everyone_ she'd ever talked to had insisted didn't exist – didn't automatically ensure her safety. She had to figure out where to stay while she conducted her search, and she had to stay under the radar. Considering how "small town" Storybrooke seemed, Hannah figured it was the type of place where everyone knew everyone. As an outsider, she was much more likely to attract attention.

A growling in her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since the previous day at school. As much as she wanted to stay hidden, she also knew she had to eat. Since she had a modest amount of money in her backpack, she figured she could afford to get breakfast, and there had to be somewhere open, perhaps a McDonalds – even small towns had those, right?

Strolling down the main road, Hannah saw no indications of any fast food chains. However, along the side of the road, she noticed a sign advertising "Granny's Diner." She could just barely see a light through the window blinds, but the bright neon red sign spelling OPEN across one of the windows was the best thing Hannah had seen.

A bell jingled as she pulled open the door. It looked just like any small town diner – booths lined several walls and simple tables and chairs were spread out throughout the room, while a counter stretched in front of another wall. Behind the counter, a short, older lady with white hair and a slightly plump face that looked both jolly and stern was moving about. She looked so grandmotherly – Hannah wondered if she was "Granny." The eleven-year-old headed straight for counter, not bothering to remove her hood, and reached for a menu as she perched herself on one of the stools.

The elderly woman approached her at once. "What can I get you, dear?"

Hannah kept her eyes trained on the menu. "Could I get the pancakes and scrambled eggs, please? Oh, and a cup of hot chocolate?"

"Sure thing."

Two minutes later, she had her hands wrapped around a warm mug of cocoa topped with whipped cream. She took a small sip and sighed in satisfaction. It had been ages since she'd had a cup of the sweet drink, and she hadn't realized just how much she'd missed it. It was enough for her to let her guard down just a bit, and she closed her eyes happily as she took another sip.

"Hi!"

If she hadn't just set her mug down, she might've dropped it in surprise. As it was, she nearly shot off her stool. Hannah jerked her head in surprise to find a boy sitting on the stool next to her. He was about her age – maybe a year or two older – with dark hair and a twinkle in his eyes. Although he didn't seem like a threat, Hannah was still on guard. "Hi…" she said cautiously.

"I'm Henry," the boy introduced himself.

She thought it odd a kid would be awake this early on a Saturday, but then again, _she_ was awake this early. "Hannah," she replied, figuring it wouldn't hurt for him to know that much.

"I haven't seen you around here before," Henry continued.

Hannah had been formulating a plan for when someone inevitably made that comment. "My family just moved to town," she lied.

It was a reasonable explanation, or so Hannah thought, but Henry seemed to find that odd. He tilted his head a little and adopted a curious expression. "You moved here? Where did you move from?"

If she shared too much of the truth, Hannah feared she might end up back in Massachusetts with the Flints. "Florida," she replied, using the first state other than Massachusetts and Maine that popped into her head. She expected Henry to nod and accept her answer, but if anything, he seemed even more perplexed. "What…?" she asked almost self-consciously.

"Nothing," Henry said quickly, shaking his head. "So why'd your family move to Storybrooke?"

She shrugged, trying not to get worked up over his inquisitiveness. "They thought it would be an adventure moving to a small town. Have you always lived here?"

"Not always. I moved here when I was a baby, but my mom and I spent almost a year in New York City."

 _Interesting_ , thought Hannah. She'd expected Henry to say he'd been born in Storybrooke. "Why'd you move back here from New York?"

Henry smiled. "Family."

Hannah felt an overwhelming sadness wash over her at her distinct lack of family, but before she had too much time to dwell on it, the woman returned with a plate of food that looked heavenly to Hannah. She glanced up and offered the woman a small smile, not wanting to be impolite. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Call me Granny," the woman said. "Everyone does. Do you need anything else, dear?"

"No thank you."

Smiling, Granny turned to Henry. "Good morning, Henry. Hot cocoa?"

Henry nodded. "Two, please – to go."

Watching Granny walk away, Hannah reached for the bottle of syrup on the counter, applying it liberally to her pancakes. She made quick work of cutting up the pancakes before stabbing several pieces with her fork and nearly shoving it into her mouth. To her delight, they tasted just as good as they'd looked.

She took several more bites before remembering that Henry was still there. She set down her fork, though she didn't let it go, and turned to offer him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"That's okay," Henry replied with a shrug. "You came here to eat, after all. So where's the rest of your family?"

Good grief, this kid asked a lot of questions. Hannah sincerely hoped he wasn't becoming suspicious. "They're still in bed. It was a long trip. I'm more of an early bird, and I really didn't want cereal for breakfast." She took a bite of eggs, washing it down with a sip of cocoa. "What about your family?" Hannah briefly glanced around the diner, but there were only two other patrons and they weren't even sitting together. "Are they here?"

"My mom will be here soon. I came ahead so I could order us both cocoas."

Another woman walked up, but this one was considerably younger than Granny. She place two disposable travel cups on the counter. "Two cocoas to go, extra cinnamon."

"Thanks Ruby!" Henry said with a grin.

Ruby turned to Hannah and smiled. "I don't think I've seen you around here before."

"This is Hannah," offered Henry. "Her family just moved here."

The young woman paused briefly, that same curious expression on her face that Henry had worn earlier. "Really?" She seemed to get over it quickly, though, and offered Hannah a genuine smile. "Well, welcome to Storybrooke!"

Hannah felt uncomfortable with the attention, but she didn't want to be rude. _That_ would draw even more unwanted attention. "Thank you," she said politely before turning her attention back to her breakfast.

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Henry paid Ruby and took the cups. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Hannah," he told her. "I'll see you around?"

"Sure," agreed Hannah, though she would hopefully avoid people in general for a few days while she caught her bearings and did a little bit of research. Her trip to Maine, besides a desperate attempt to escape the Flints, was also an attempt at locating one or both of her birth parents.

Hannah always knew she'd been adopted as a baby, and her adoptive parents had been wonderful. They'd loved and cherished her as if she'd truly been theirs. Life had been good until a few months before her fifth birthday, when they'd all been in a horrific car crash. Hannah had survived with minor injuries. Her adoptive parents had died on impact. Since then, she'd been a resident of the foster care system. She'd spent the past six years bouncing from foster home to foster home. Some had been better than others, but eventually she'd ended up at the Flints'. Hannah had only lived there for three months, but she couldn't take it any longer, and nobody had listened when she'd asked to go somewhere, _anywhere_ else.

She didn't know much of her background. She had a copy of what looked like a birth certificate, although everyone had insisted it couldn't be real. There was no such place as Storybrooke, Maine, they'd said. It certainly _looked_ legit, though. And, in spite of their insistences, there she was – in Storybrooke. Clearly the town existed. The certificate listed both parents, but for all she knew, they could have left Storybrooke years ago. Or, worse yet, they could've died just like Hannah's adoptive parents. There was no guarantee she was going to find them.

Finishing her breakfast in record time, Hannah decided she needed to get out of the diner before anyone else commented on her presence. She quickly paid Ruby, who had come back to check on how she was doing, and found the restroom before heading back out to the main road.

Stomach full, Hannah began to feel sleepy. She didn't want to go back into the woods, but she wondered if there was anywhere else she could take a nap without attracting attention. She continued her journey down the road, moving further and further from what she supposed was the downtown area.

Her feet carried her right into a residential area peppered with houses of varying sizes, styles, and states of repair. There, Hannah noticed a little white house. It was adorable, or it would have been if not for the damaged shutters and overgrown lawn. Hannah couldn't imagine anyone living there with the current state of the house, at least on the outside, but she needed to be sure. She figured it would look quite suspicious to neighbors if some kid they'd never seen tried to open the front door, so Hannah went around the back, locating the back door. She expected it to be locked, so Hannah was beyond surprised when the handle turned and the door cracked open with ease.

Peering inside, she noticed what looked like giant tablecloths draped across the living room furniture. From that back porch, Hannah could see an impressive layer of dust on the nearest bookcase. Clearly no one had lived there for a while. Satisfied, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her with care. The air was a bit stagnant, probably from the buildup of dust and lack of any sort of circulation, but Hannah could overlook that. The covered sofa looked incredibly inviting just then.

Hannah shrugged her backpack from her shoulders and set it at one end of the sofa, then curled up on her side, using the backpack as a pillow. Closing her eyes, it didn't take her long to drift off.

* * *

She yawned, rolling slightly to stretch her body. She wasn't sure how long she'd been sleeping, but she felt much more refreshed than she had before. When she shifted to sit up, however, Hannah became acutely aware that she wasn't alone.

"Oh crap."

A few feet away sat a woman with long blonde hair and a piercing gaze that made Hannah feel like the woman could straight through her. She was dressed casually in a long sleeve t-shirt (or, Hannah assumed it was long sleeved) under a black jacket, jeans, and boots that nearly reached her knees. There was something nonchalant about her, even as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs.

When the woman didn't say anything, Hannah asked, "Who are you?"

"Emma Swan," the woman replied. "I'm the sheriff."

Hannah waited for Emma to offer more information, but she didn't. Licking her lips nervously, Hannah pressed further. "What are you doing here?"

A small smile played on Emma's lips. Hannah couldn't tell whether it was a smirk or more genuine. "Henry told me your family just moved to town. Storybrooke doesn't get a lot of visitors, so I wanted to welcome your family to town. Imagine my surprise when I followed you here, to an abandoned house."

"Henry told you…?" Hannah glanced down at the lidded paper cup on the ground, and raised curious eyes back up to Emma. "Are you Henry's mom?"

"Yup."

"Oh."

"So, what are _you_ doing here, Hannah?"

She scrambled for a reasonable explanation. "I was exploring the town, and decided to check out this house since it didn't look like anyone lived here. I shouldn't have, I know, but I was curious. I was feeling really sleepy from breakfast, and decided it would be easier to take a quick nap here than walk back home feeling drowsy."

The smile grew ever so slightly, and Hannah realized it was most definitely a smirk now. Emma leaned forward. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret, Hannah," Emma told her. "I have this power – think of it as a superpower if you'd like. I can tell whether someone's telling me the truth."

She shook her head. "I'm… I'm not… I mean…"

"Where are your parents and what are you doing here in Storybrooke by yourself?"

Hannah opened her mouth, a smooth half-truth on her tongue, when Emma arched an eyebrow, prompting her to stop in her tracks. Was this woman seriously a human lie detector? Sighing, Hannah looked down as she kicked the floor in frustration. "Which parents?" she muttered. "My birth parents? I don't know where they are. My adoptive parents? Dead."

Silence thickened around them, but Hannah didn't want to see Emma's face right then.

"Foster parents?" Emma queried after several long seconds.

Hannah's head jerked up and she shot off the sofa, pressing her back against the furthest wall from the sheriff. "I'm not going back!" she shouted. "You can't make me!"

Emma slowly stood, holding her hands out in front of her to placate the girl, but she didn't move from that spot. "Whoa," she said in a low voice. "Take a deep breath. You're okay."

"I'll run away if you try to make me go back," Hannah told Emma. "I won't go. I won't."

"Okay," Emma agreed in a placating tone. "Why don't we go down to the sheriff's station and talk? I promise I won't try to find your foster parents just yet."

Hannah eyed the sheriff suspiciously. "I'm not telling you anything that would help you find them," she warned.

The woman nodded in understanding. "I know."

Slowly Hannah pushed away from the wall and crossed the room, retrieving her backpack from the sofa. She was a little surprised Emma hadn't tried to take her backpack or in the very least dig through it. Hannah looked at Emma, waiting for her lead.

Reaching over, Emma placed a hand on Hannah's shoulder. Hannah winced, but if Emma noticed she didn't say anything. Instead, the sheriff guided the girl toward the front door.

The walk to the sheriff's station wasn't terribly far, but as neither Hannah nor Emma said anything on the way over, it seemed like almost an eternity to the younger girl. She didn't know what to think of this Emma Swan. She certainly didn't act like how she'd expected a small town sheriff to act. Perhaps Hannah had imagined it, but the woman had seemed somewhat understanding when she'd refused to go back to her foster home. The last time Hannah had tried to talk to a police officer about her living situation at the time, the officer had thought she was just being overly dramatic.

Hannah allowed Emma to lead her into the sheriff's office, taking in her surroundings in the process. The main room was fairly large with several desks spread out through. Against the far wall sat two cells, both of which were unoccupied at the moment. Hannah wondered just how much crime they actually had in a sleepy little town like Storybrooke. At the opposite side of the room, enclosed by low walls and windows that stretched from those low walls to the ceiling, was an office that Hannah assumed belonged to the sheriff – Emma, in this case.

At that point, Emma let go of her shoulder. Hannah stood there, wondering what Emma would do, but she didn't have to wonder long. The woman quickly pulled a chair away from the wall and set it down next to one of the desks.

"Sit down."

Shrugging off her backpack and holding it to her chest, Hannah slowly lowered herself onto the chair. Her backpack moved to her lap, and she rested her hands on top of it to ensure it didn't move. She watched in silence as Emma pulled over one of the desk chairs so she could sit right in front of her.

"I noticed something on our way here," Emma said carefully. "When I touched your shoulder, you flinched." Hannah bit her lip at the memory. "Are you hurt, Hannah?"

She shook her head quickly – too quickly, she decided half a second later. "I'm fine," she insisted.

Emma's expression was serious, although she didn't seem stern or upset. "Remember my superpower?"

"I'm fine," Hannah repeated, this time with far less confidence or energy.

Reaching over, Emma placed her hand on top of Hannah's. The girl jumped a little, but she didn't move her hand away. "Hannah, can I please see your shoulder? I want to see for myself that you're all right."

Subconsciously Hannah tightened her grip on her backpack.

"I'm not going to take your backpack," promised the woman in a soothing tone. "I promised you I wouldn't try to find your foster parents right away, and I meant it. You're safe here, Hannah."

Strangely, Hannah believed her. Moving at a snail's pace, she placed her backpack by her feet. She took a deep breath, her fingers traveling to the zipper of her hooded sweatshirt, pulling slowly on the zipper until the two sides were completely separated. Gingerly, she pulled one arm out of the sweatshirt, then the other. Without the coverage the sweatshirt provided, Hannah felt so exposed. She couldn't completely give up the soft jacket, instead opting to ball it up and hug it to her chest

She watched as Emma's eyes roamed from her face down to her shoulder. She could imagine what Emma was seeing – a faint shadow under her jaw, finger-shaped bruises wrapped around the side of her neck. Panic rose in her chest, but she forced herself to remain still as Emma's fingers reached out to move her shirt to the side, revealing more bruising in various stages of healing.

Emma sighed, and dropped her hand from Hannah's shoulder, meeting the child's gaze once more. "Did your foster parents do this?"

A lump had formed in her throat, making speech virtually impossible. Looking down to her lap, Hannah could only nod.

Emma's hand returned to her hand, this time giving a comforting squeeze. "Whatever happens, I promise you I won't let you go back there. You have my word."


	3. Chapter 3

Emma watched Hannah intently from her office. The girl was sitting at one of the desks watching a movie on Netflix about singing high school kids. Emma had millions of questions for her, but she wanted to give the kid some time to breathe without worrying that she was going to be sent back to an obviously bad situation, and to be honest Emma figured she could learn a lot about her just from observations. For example, Hannah was curled up in the chair as best as she could, arms wrapped around her torso in a protective manner. Clearly the kid was scared and was used to having to comfort herself. Emma could relate, having been a product of the foster system herself.

The biggest question Emma's mind at the moment, however, was how Hannah had found Storybrooke in the first place. Even with the second curse broken, the town was supposed to be hidden from anyone who wasn't from the Enchanted Forest or another realm or related to someone from those realms, yet here was a child who had found her way to the town without any known outside help. That question led to another – why had Hannah chosen Storybrooke in the first place? Big cities were much easier places to become lost in the hustle and bustle, particularly for runaways. Small towns were less than ideal, since residents tended to know each other better and recognized newcomers quicker.

At the same time, Emma couldn't shake the feeling that there was something _familiar_ about this kid. It wasn't merely the fact that she was a foster child. It was Hannah's appearance: shoulder-length hair that was such a deep brown that it almost looked black, striking light blue eyes, pale skin that Emma imagined didn't tan very well, a petite, upturned nose that fit perfectly on her face that was neither round nor long. She'd seen those features before. Perhaps not all on the same person, but she'd definitely seen them somewhere. She just couldn't put a finger on it.

She was interrupted from her musings by the sound of her name being called from just outside the sheriff's office. Rising from her chair, Emma exited her office to find Henry striding in.

"Mom? I wanted to see if we were still going…" Henry called again, stopping abruptly just next to Emma's office. "Hannah!" he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Hannah looked at Henry and offered a small smile. She wasn't sure what to say, but it was the least she could do to be friendly.

Sensing Hannah's discomfort, Emma stepped in. "Hannah and I were just getting to know each other," she told Henry. The sheriff glanced at the clock, caught off guard by the time. "I didn't realize the time. I'm sorry, kid. Why don't we have lunch here? Do you want to go pick something up from Granny's?"

Henry didn't seem bothered by the change in plans. "Sure! Grilled cheese?"

"Sounds great. What about you, Hannah? What would you like for lunch?"

The woman had already promised not to send her back to the Flints; Hannah felt bad asking for anything else from her. "Oh, you don't have to get me anything."

Emma gave Hannah a look. "What would you like for lunch, Hannah?"

It seemed Emma wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. "Grilled cheese would be great," Hannah replied softly. "Thank you."

Reaching for her wallet, Emma pulled out a few bills. "Three grilled cheeses and iced teas. You can go ahead and see if Granny has anything good for dessert while you're there."

Henry gladly took the cash from his mother and grinned. "Thanks Mom! I'll be back soon."

Watching Henry leave, Emma realized this was a good opportunity to talk privately with Hannah before Henry returned. She rolled one of the office chairs over to where Hannah sat and perched herself on the chair next to the kid. "Good movie?" she asked with a smile.

Hannah shrugged, smiling just a little herself. "It's okay."

"So, it will be a couple of minutes before Henry returns with the food. I thought this might be a good chance for us to talk a little."

The girl maneuvered her feet up onto the chair so she could hug her knees to her chest. "I don't want to talk about… you know…"

Emma shook her head. "I'm not going to ask you anything else about your foster home right now. I'll need some more information later, especially to help make sure never have to go back, but we'll leave it alone for right now. I suspect that the bruises I saw earlier weren't the only injuries you have." She watched as Hannah averted her gaze, a classic giveaway that Emma was on the right track. "Later today, tomorrow at the latest we'll stop by Storybrooke Hospital to get you checked out."

Hannah's eyes widened with fear. "No!" she exclaimed, her voice an octave higher than normal. "No doctors!"

"They're not going to call your foster parents. I won't tell them _anything_ they don't need to know. I wouldn't be doing my best to keep you safe and take care of you if I didn't make sure you're okay."

Hannah shook her head again. "I don't want to see a doctor."

The blonde sheriff offered an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid it isn't optional. Like I said, no one is calling your foster parents or children's services or anyone else, and I'll stay with you the entire time. I won't leave you alone at any point."

It seemed to Hannah that she wasn't going to win this one, either. She wasn't exactly ready to just give in, though, so she shrugged one shoulder.

Knowing it was the best she'd get just then, Emma moved on. "So, I was curious about a couple of things. Think you could help me out?"

Hannah shrugged again.

"Henry mentioned that you lived in Florida before you came to Storybrooke. Is that true?"

She was tempted to say yes, but Hannah remembered that Emma had an uncanny ability to sniff out lies. Would she really be able to lie now when she hadn't before? "No," she admitted softly.

Emma smiled. Hannah liked the way the smile reached Emma's eyes. "Thank you for being honest, Hannah. Where did you live before coming here? I don't need to know which city or county," she rushed to add when Hannah frowned. "I'm just curious how far you traveled."

Though she hadn't come from a particularly large state, Hannah figured it was safe enough to share that little bit of information. She had a feeling she could trust that Emma would make sure she didn't have to return there. "I lived in Massachusetts."

"That's a bit of a drive," mused Emma. "How did you get from Massachusetts to Maine? That's too far for you to have walked."

"I, uh, caught a ride in the back of a pickup truck."

Several horrific ends to that scenario whirled around in Emma's head. The kid could have been killed doing something like that. Emma had never been the stern one – when it came to Henry, Regina was definitely the strict parent – but could she really just ignore the fact that the girl had put herself in serious danger? More so, could she make sure Hannah understood the seriousness of the situation without scaring her off?

She sighed. "So listen," she started carefully. "I'm glad that you seem to have made it here safely, and I'm glad I found you so I could help. No matter the circumstances, though, you can't do that again. Getting in the back of a stranger's truck is extremely unsafe, not only because you don't know the person and they could turn out to be dangerous, but also because you could have been thrown and killed from that truck if the driver got in an accident."

"She didn't even know I was there," mumbled Hannah. She was not happy with the mild scolding. Emma's voice was calm, even soothing, but the message was clear: Emma didn't like what she'd done. If Hannah was honest with herself, though, she'd have to admit that she wasn't upset with Emma. She was feeling guilty for doing something she knew better than to do under any other circumstance, even if she hadn't stopped to consider the possible consequences in the heat of the moment.

"What if she had figured out you were there?" Emma gently prodded. "What if she turned out to be a serial killer or a pedophile or a human trafficker? You can't put yourself in that kind of situation again, Hannah."

"I had to get away…"

Emma nodded in agreement. "I understand that. Hopefully you won't feel the need to run away any more, and it won't even be an issue. I want you to promise me that you won't get in a stranger's vehicle ever again, though."

She wasn't one to make promises she couldn't (or wouldn't) keep, but Hannah really hoped she'd find what she was looking for in Storybrooke and running away wouldn't be necessary anymore. Taking a deep breath, she nodded her agreement. "I promise."

"Good girl," Emma praised. It was helpful to know where Hannah had come from and how she had reached Storybrooke. While she wouldn't ever praise the kid for running away, she admired the fact that Hannah had mustered the courage to travel so far all on her own. It still didn't explain _why_ she came to Storybrooke, and that was the question that had gnawed the most at Emma. "All right. Another thing I've been wondering is: why Storybrooke? A large city such as New York would provide greater anonymity for someone not wanting to be found. It's much harder to hide out and avoid notice in a small town, especially here in Storybrooke."

Hannah wasn't sure she wanted to divulge that information. On one hand, as sheriff Emma might be able to help her find her birth parents, or at least figure out what happened to them if they no longer lived in Storybrooke. On the other hand, keeping that information to herself also helped to ensure that it would be harder for anyone to track down where she came from. Hannah figured someone such as Emma would be able to connect the dots between her birth parents and her adoptive parents, and at that point social services.

Maybe just giving a few details, but not the whole picture, would be okay. "My parents – my birth parents, I mean – were from Storybrooke."

This newest revelation took Emma by surprise. "Your birth parents are from Storybrooke?" she repeated, unable to quite wrap her head around Hannah's words. At the time of Hannah's birth, the curse would have still been in effect. How could she have been born during the curse? Hadn't time been frozen? Emma thought of Ashley – Cinderella – who according to Mary Margaret and David had been pregnant back in the Enchanted Forest. That meant the young woman had remained pregnant for twenty-eight years until the curse had finally been broken. Since no one under the curse had _left_ Storybrooke during that time, it also meant that Hannah must have been born _in_ Storybrooke. That _had_ to narrow down the possibilities.

Emma tried to blink away the confusion. "Do you know either of your birth parents' names?"

"Nuh uh," Hannah said at once. "I'm not telling you that."

All right, so the kid definitely had an idea of who she was looking for. That would be helpful. Honestly, though, Emma wondered if she'd even need that information from Hannah. As mayor, Regina had been aware of everything going on in the town during the curse. She'd have to know about Hannah's parents, wouldn't she? Emma decided a conversation with Regina was a must that afternoon.

* * *

Emma watched from a short distance as Henry and Hannah sat on the swings in the seaside park, kicking their feet on the ground just to rock softly. They appeared to be deep in conversation, and Emma found herself glad that Hannah seemed to be warming up to Henry, at least a little. The kid needed people she could trust, and Emma knew her son was a trustworthy friend.

"Miss Swan," Regina said by way of greeting, stopping next to the blonde as she watched her son on the swing. She'd resigned herself to the fact that she had to share Henry with the woman, and grudgingly she had to admit that Emma was good with Henry. Regina knew she was much more of the take-charge parent, but that was fine. He still loved her, and that was what mattered most. These days she tolerated the sheriff a whole lot more, and some days even thought she might not hate her after all. "Is this about Zelena? I don't know where she is…"

Emma shook her head. "No, it isn't about Zelena."

Focusing for the first time on Hannah, Regina narrowed her eyes. "Who is that next to Henry?"

"Henry ran into her this morning at Granny's. She showed up in Storybrooke this morning."

Regina thought it odd that someone, especially a child, had just shown up from another world. "Which realm is she from?"

Finally turning to look at Regina, Emma tried to gauge the queen's reaction. "This one."

Regina turned her undivided attention to Emma, eyes wide in disbelief. "That's not possible. Storybrooke is invisible to anyone who isn't from our world. She must be lying."

"She's not lying," insisted Emma.

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Your _superpower_ has been wrong before."

"Not this time." When Regina just shook her head, Emma continued. "She says she was born here in Storybrooke. I don't know how, because time was frozen before I came here…" Emma trailed off when she realized Regina had frozen. Something she'd said had clicked. "What?" she demanded.

"What's her name?" Regina questioned softly.

"Hannah. Don't know her last name or her parents, but…"

Regina took a step back and sank onto a bench. It couldn't be…

Emma watched in silence, figuring Regina would say something, anything. Clearly she knew something. However, as she waited, the silence seemed to thicken, until Emma couldn't take it any longer. She sat at the opposite end of the bench and shifted so she could face Regina, though she could still see the kids out of the corner of her eye. "What is it? Regina, what do you know?"

Regina stared straight ahead at Henry and Hannah. "It shouldn't have been possible," she murmured. "The curse froze time. For eighteen years, not a single person aged or changed. Then Henry came, and having been born in the outside world, he was unaffected by the curse. He grew, even as everyone else remained the same. Well, almost everyone…" She paused, taking a calming breath. "Just after I adopted Henry, she became pregnant. I don't know how. Maybe Henry's presence in town changed something. We both know how special he is. I was scared, though – scared that this pregnancy meant the curse was weakening. I worried about what would happen to Storybrooke once the baby was born."

"So you convinced her mother to put her up for adoption?"

To her surprise, Emma read guilt on Regina's face. "Not exactly."

Emma waited for Regina to continue. When she didn't, Emma let out an impatient sigh. "Really, Regina? You're going to make me drag it out of you?"

Regina whipped around in disbelief, any trace of guilt replaced by anger. "You're not going to _drag_ anything out of me, Miss Swan. I don't have to tell you any of this."

Pointing to the girl on the swing, Emma disagreed. "That girl deserves to know who her parents are. If you know something that can help her, you owe it to her to share that information."

"It's complicated," Regina said, deflating like a balloon.

"Well then un-complicate it."

"Yes, she was obviously put up for adoption. However, her mother had no idea about it."

The sheriff's eyes narrowed. "I know the curse screwed with everyone's reality, but how does a mother not know that her child is being given away? It makes even less sense than my parents being the same physical age that I am."

"It was a difficult birth," Regina explained, the guilt returning to her expression. "The mother lost a lot of blood and was out of it for a day or two. I knew she wouldn't willingly give up her baby, and I couldn't let that child stay here in Storybrooke and potentially ruin everything I'd done to try to achieve my happy ending. I… uh… I coerced a doctor into telling her that the baby had died. I left the baby outside a hospital in Boston, and within a year, the whole experience had been distorted by the curse. She knew she'd had a baby and lost it, but she couldn't tell anyone when exactly it happened. It became a 'long ago' event."

Emma felt an anger she couldn't explain. It was one thing hearing about everything Regina had done as the Evil Queen, and even seeing her in action when Emma had first come to Storybrooke, but this hit Emma on a whole different level. She couldn't fathom how any woman – a _mother_ , no less – could do something like this. "You made a mother believe that her child had _died_ just so you could get your way? Are you _kidding me_?"

Regina shook her head. "I was a different person back then. I didn't feel any remorse when it happened, and I pushed it out of my mind as I focused on Henry. I hadn't given it another thought until today."

"I want her parents' names. I need to figure out whether or not they're still in Storybrooke, or if they're even still alive, and then I have to go about explaining to them that the daughter they thought died all those years ago is actually alive."

"Oh, they're alive." Regina snorted softly. "They aren't together – it was a one-night stand – but they're here in Storybrooke."

"Their names," Emma repeated.

Shifting, Regina met Emma's gaze. She'd much rather keep this whole mess buried, but it seemed like that wasn't an option. She knew she was about to open a can of worms, but Emma _had_ insisted.

"Mary Margaret Blanchard and Dr. Whale."


	4. Chapter 4

Emma stared at Regina in complete and utter shock. She was so thrown by this latest piece of information that she had to struggle just to speak coherently. Even so, all that she managed out was, "I… I mean… what?!"

The darker-haired woman nodded toward the girl beside Henry. "She's your sister. Well, half-sister, technically. Different fathers and all…"

Immediately Emma shook her head. Regina had to be lying, even though Emma detected no hint of dishonesty in the woman's words. "She can't be. Mary Margaret has never mentioned _anything_ about having had a baby here in Storybrooke."

"What was she going to tell you?" Regina asked her. "That she slept with someone other than your father and had a baby, but that the baby died? I'd be surprised if she even told David."

It was more than Emma thought she could believe, but a small voice in her brain pointed out that it explained Hannah's presence. She'd been born in Storybrooke, and both of her parents were from other realms. It made sense that the girl could find Storybrooke again. As Emma watched Hannah push herself higher on the swing, she had to acknowledge the similarities she saw. The dark hair and fair skin were all Mary Margaret. Hannah's face wasn't quite as round, though, and her nose was more petite. Emma hadn't spent much time around Dr. Whale, but she could easily see that Hannah had his eyes. That crystal blue hue hadn't come from Mary Margaret.

But now… now Emma had a bigger problem. Not only did she have to tell Hannah she knew where her parents were, but she also had to break the news to Hannah's parents. Emma had to tell her own mother that her other child was alive. She really didn't want to have to be the one to do it. She'd ask Regina to do it – it _was_ Regina's fault, after all, but she already knew what the woman would say. Heck, Regina hadn't even wanted to tell _her_. Why would she voluntarily confess to Mary Margaret?

"I want a copy of her birth certificate," she told Regina in a low voice. Emma wanted – no, _needed_ – tangible proof in her hands, aside from Hannah's physical characteristics, before she opened this can of worms.

Regina nodded. "I can get that for you."

"Today," demanded Emma. "If what you're saying is true, they both deserve the truth, but I refuse to put them through all of that emotional drama without proof."

* * *

"So…" Hannah hoisted her backpack over her shoulder as she stepped out of Emma's car. "I'm going to be staying at your place?"

"Well, technically it's my parents' place, but Henry and I have been staying there the past few weeks. You'll be safe there."

Hannah wondered if staying elsewhere might be better. "I could've stayed at Granny's," she pointed out. "She's got plenty of available rooms."

Emma looked down at Hannah with a knowing expression. "Right, and make it that much easier for you to just run off when you feel like it? I don't think so. You're staying with me for now, kid." She didn't mention that Hannah would likely be staying there even after Emma moved out, since her birth mother also lived there, but she had to talk to Mary Margaret before she could possibly tell Hannah anything.

She was kind of impressed that this woman knew all her moves. Then again, Hannah found it equally irritating that she wouldn't be able to make a break for it if needed. "All right, Sheriff. Lead the way."

"You can call me Emma," the blonde woman said with a soft chuckle, "and you're going first. Apartment 3, all the way up."

Dang, she was good! Sighing in temporary defeat, Hannah trudged into the building and climbed the stairs. Though she didn't look behind her, she could hear Emma following closely behind. She paused just outside the door and waited for Emma to join her.

Reaching out, Emma opened the door and waited for Hannah to step inside before following her in. Henry was seated on the sofa, the storybook open on his lap. Mary Margaret was settled at the kitchen table, a mug of tea in hand, while David moved about in the small kitchen, apparently preparing dinner. All three looked up at the same time, and Emma read two curious expressions and one of pleasant surprise.

"Hannah!" Henry greeted the girl with a grin. "What are you doing here?"

"Everyone, this is Hannah," Emma said before either of her parents could ask. "You already know Henry," she told Hannah, "and these are my parents, Mary Margaret and David."

Hannah froze when Emma introduced Mary Margaret, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Emma. _It couldn't be_ , thought the eleven-year-old. Noticing several sets of eyes focused on her, Hannah shook herself out of her trance. "Your parents?" she repeated with heavy skepticism. "They're, like, the same age as you…"

She should have anticipated the question, but Emma had to admit Hannah caught her by surprise there. "It's… complicated," she said, realizing it was a weak excuse and wouldn't satisfy Hannah at all. However, getting into her family's history and the subject of magic was a topic for another time. "Henry, why don't you take Hannah upstairs and show her the storybook? I need to talk privately for a few minutes with David and Mary Margaret."

"Show her the book?" Henry repeated in surprise. "Really?"

"Yup." Emma turned to Hannah. "We'll call you guys down in a couple of minutes, okay?"

The last thing Hannah wanted to do was to go anywhere she might not be able to hear this conversation, but she didn't think she'd win the argument. "Sure," she acquiesced with a shrug, following Henry as he climbed the metal stairs to the loft bedroom.

She knew Emma wanted her to look at some book with Henry, but the moment she reached the loft, Hannah turned and watched the adults downstairs with interest. They were speaking too low to be heard, but fortunately for her, Hannah was fairly adept at reading lips. Stretching out just behind the railing that prevented her from falling from the loft, Hannah settled in and watched.

* * *

Satisfied that the kids were reasonably out of earshot, Emma whispered, "Can I talk to you guys really quick?"

"Sure," Mary Margaret replied, confused. She joined Emma on the sofa, where the two waited while David slid a baking dish into the oven and made his way over to them.

"What's going on?" David asked, pulling up a chair and taking a seat.

Emma took a deep breath and turned to Mary Margaret. She kept her voice at just above a whisper so that Hannah and Henry wouldn't be able to hear. "I want to talk about your one-night stand with Whale."

Mary Margaret seemed even more confused. "We already talked about that. You and your father both know we were all under the curse then and had no idea who we really were."

The blonde shook her head. "I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the one-night stand you had with him twelve years ago, just after Henry came to Storybrooke."

"Wait," David said quickly, lowering his voice when Emma pressed a finger to her lip. "You and Whale… had… more than once?"

Mary Margaret's jaw dropped. "I… that's one of the memories my cursed self had," she said in surprise. She hadn't thought about it in a while, assuming it was just part of the curse. "How do you know about it? I never shared that memory with anyone!"

"Regina told me," Emma explained. "It wasn't just a memory Regina created when she enacted the curse, though. You and Whale really did… hook up." Despite nearly being thirty and having had conversations about intimate relationships with Mary Margaret before realizing she was really Snow White, Emma felt awkward bringing up anything sex-related with her mother.

"No," Mary Margaret said confidently, shaking her head in disagreement. "It couldn't have really happened. That… event… resulted in a pregnancy, which was impossible while time was frozen. I mean, look at Ella… uh, Ashley… She was pregnant before the curse hit, and she didn't have the baby until you came to town and time started moving again."

Emma shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Regina couldn't explain it, but she was sure that it had happened." Reaching inside her jacket, Emma pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to her mother. "I have proof."

Taking the paper, Mary Margaret carefully unfolded it and scanned the document. It was a birth certificate – one that matched up with every memory she had about the child that had resulted from that pregnancy. "Emma, just because you found documentation doesn't mean it wasn't manufactured as part of the curse."

"Eighteen years before the fact?" Emma asked incredulously.

Mary Margaret was beginning to see Emma's point. "Let's say for argument's sake that I was really pregnant. I don't know whether Regina told you, but I lost the baby shortly after she was born. Why bring this up now?"

"Regina lied," came Emma's blunt reply. "The baby didn't die. Regina left her at a hospital in Boston."

The brunette shook her head, unable to wrap her head around what her daughter was saying. "That doesn't make sense. Why would Regina do that?"

"You mean besides the fact that she was too bitter at the time to allow you any chance of a happy ending?" Emma watched Mary Margaret give a slight nod of acknowledgement. "She told me she wasn't sure what effect the baby would have on the curse. Here was a child who shouldn't have been able to be conceived, much less born, and she was afraid it might weaken the curse."

It was a lot for Mary Margaret to take in, and she leaned back into the sofa, resting her hand on her belly with a sigh. "She didn't die? You're _sure_ , Emma?"

"Positive," Emma replied softly.

David rose and moved to stand next to Mary Margaret, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Am I all right?" Mary Margaret repeated slowly. "No I am not all right! I just found out that a memory I'd thought was just part of the curse was real, and I had another daughter and despite what I was told she _lived_. Somewhere out there I could…" She froze, turning wide eyed to Emma. "That girl upstairs with Henry… you said her name was _Hannah_?" At Emma's wordless nod, Mary Margaret felt her eyes moisten. "Emma, is she my daughter?"

"Yes."

Mary Margaret put a hand over her mouth, blinking away the tears pooling in her eyes.

"Does she know?" David wondered aloud, asking the question Mary Margaret couldn't bring herself to ask just then.

"I don't know," Emma said uncertainly. "I haven't talked to her about it. I figured I ought to talk to you guys first."

Finding her voice, Mary Margaret spoke resolutely. "I want to meet her."

Emma nodded and looked up toward the loft. "Henry?" she called. "Hannah? You guys can come down now." She watched the two carefully descend the stairs. Hannah seemed unsure of herself, and Henry seemed frustrated.

Hannah slowly crossed the apartment, stopping just as she'd passed the kitchen table. "So you're my birth mom?"

Caught off guard – something that didn't happen often – Emma stared at Hannah in surprise. "Wait, how did you know?"

"I recognized the name…" At Emma's raised eyebrow, Hannah added, "I can also kind of read lips."

Emma had a thing or two to say about Hannah's intrusion on the private conversation, but she found herself briefly distracted as Mary Margaret slowly pushed herself up off the couch.

The brunette approached Hannah with care, not wanting to startle her. She remembered how closed off Emma had been, even after the first curse broke. Though she knew this time things had been out of her control, Mary Margaret felt an immense guilt over the fact that her child had spent eleven years likely believing her parents hadn't wanted her.

Studying the girl, Mary Margaret could see herself in the girl's features – her dark hair, fair skin, and the shape of her eyes. Though her eyes were clearly Whale's, Mary Margaret caught a spark in them that felt so familiar. She paused just out of Hannah's personal space, wanting to give her room. "Hi Hannah," she said softly.

Hannah stared at Mary Margaret. She'd dreamed of meeting her birth mother, even though she'd felt equally betrayed at being left at a hospital, and now that she stood in front of her, Hannah felt self-conscious. "Did you really not know I was alive?" she whispered.

She would normally have said something about the eavesdropping, but it wasn't the time. "I promise you, I had no idea. If I'd known, I wouldn't have stopped looking until I found you. You were very much wanted, Hannah." Mary Margaret watched as Hannah's eyes glistened. "Can I give you a hug?"

Nodding, Hannah found herself almost at once enveloped in Mary Margaret's arms. The move surprised her at first, but any unease quickly dissipated. She could smell the faintest hint of flowers – Hannah couldn't be sure exactly which kind – and there was something warm, comforting, about Mary Margaret's embrace. It reminded Hannah of the hugs her adoptive mom had given her when she was little. Unconsciously letting out a small sigh, Hannah allowed her eyes to close as she reached around Mary Margaret to return the embrace.


	5. Chapter 5

"How are you holding up, kid?"

Hannah stared down at the open book in her lap. Was it possible to feel like the world was spinning while sitting completely still? Twenty-four hours before, she'd been consumed with her quest to find her birth parents. Now, not only had she found family, but she'd discovered a word she'd never imagined possible. She still wasn't sure she believed it. Magic couldn't possibly be real. This book couldn't possibly be real.

"My head is spinning," she admitted, examining an illustration of Snow White and Prince Charming's wedding.

"It's a lot to process," Emma agreed as she sat in the chair closest to Hannah. She'd taken a step back for the past couple of hours, allowing Hannah time to get to know Mary Margaret a bit better. The apprehension Emma had seen on countless other foster kids' faces was plain as day on Hannah's face, but the girl seemed to be warming up a bit. The kid had been quiet throughout dinner, only answering questions when directly asked. Emma wondered what family dinners had been like in her foster home. Since then, Mary Margaret had made it her mission to show Hannah her family history, or at least, part of it. It hadn't escaped Emma's notice that although Hannah was still guarded – something the she shared with her older sister, apparently – she'd subconsciously leaned toward Mary Margaret as she'd been introduced to exactly what made Storybrooke unique.

Hannah shook her head softly. "I'm not sure I believe it."

It sounded so much like Emma that the blonde had to chuckle. "I hear you. When Henry first tried to tell me about the Enchanted Forest and the dark curse, I thought he had an overactive imagination. It takes some getting used to. No one will think any less of you if you aren't ready to embrace it."

"Embrace the fact that I'm the daughter of one of the best known fairy tale princesses in history?" She glanced at Mary Margaret. "You know, Snow White was a bit of a ditz in the Disney movie – frolicking throughout the forest, singing to animals about needing to find a prince. The fairy tales in this book are a bit twisted. No offense."

Mary Margaret laughed. "No offense taken."

"Did you really hit him on the head with a rock?"

"She sure did," David said from the kitchen where he was putting away pots and pans from dinner. "I still have the scar to prove it."

Hannah lifted her gaze to study David. Mary Margaret had explained that he'd been in a coma for 28 years and that under the curse neither knew of their relationship to the other, so Hannah believed Mary Margaret and Emma when they insisted that he wasn't Hannah's father. Still, the eleven-year-old noticed a few similarities. She and David both had blue eyes, and the shape of his face was similar to hers. He could probably pass as her dad, if no one knew any of them, she mused.

Speaking of her birth father, Hannah had noticed that Mary Margaret hadn't mentioned him at all as she'd shared her history from the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke. "What about my dad?" Hannah questioned, turning her attention back to Mary Margaret. "Is he in this book?"

"No," replied Mary Margaret with a slight shake of her head. "Your father isn't from the Enchanted Forest. We didn't meet until we came to Storybrooke."

"I thought everyone in Storybrooke was from the Enchanted Forest…"

"Well, anyone who was brought to Storybrooke by the curse was in the Enchanted Forest at the time of the curse, but some people were from other realms. Your father was one of those people. He came from another land."

"Was his name Dr. Whale there, too? Or did he have a different name like you guys did?"

"Victor. His name was Victor Frankenstein."

Hannah felt her eyes widen and her jaw drop. "Frankenstein?" she repeated slowly. "My father is _Frankenstein?_ How… how do I have a _dead monster_ as my father?!"

"Actually, in the book Frankenstein was the name of the doctor who created the monster," Emma told her younger sister, resisting the urge to laugh at the look of scandal on Hannah's face. "I promise you, he's just as human and alive as the rest of us."

This was… Hannah didn't know how to describe her situation. Her birth mother was a fairy tale character and her birth father was a character from a book that had been written _eons_ ago. She had a _much_ older sister who seemed to be the same age as their mother, and a nephew that was a year older than her. Even the most creative writers couldn't possibly dream up something like this!

It was an odd situation, but her only other options were to try to survive on her own or return to Massachusetts, and the latter wasn't really an option to begin with. She surveyed the people in the room, her eyes drifting from Mary Margaret to David to Henry (who had been remarkably quiet) to Emma.

Mary Margaret watched her younger daughter with interest. "What's on your mind, sweetie?"

Hannah chewed on her bottom lip. "What happens now?"

"I'd love for you to stay here with us if that's what you want," Mary Margaret said at once, grasping Hannah's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm so sorry that I've missed eleven years of your life, and I don't want to miss another second. I'm sure your adoptive parents must be worried about you though. We'd have to let them know you're okay."

"They died when I was four," Hannah said softly.

Mary Margaret felt her heart break a little. Had Hannah been a ward of the foster system, too? "Your foster parents, then?" she asked almost hesitantly. "Surely they'll be worried."

"Not likely," muttered Hannah.

Her heart dropped at the realization that Hannah's life didn't appear to be much better than Emma's had been. What a failure she'd been as a mother. "Well, you're here now," she said, dropping the issue. "We'll have to go shopping tomorrow. Would you like that?"

It actually sounded kind of nice. "Sure," she agreed.

Hannah was rewarded with a smile that seemed to light up Mary Margaret's entire face. "Wonderful!"

She rubbed her face, feeling rather sleepy under the weight of everything she'd learned. "I'm kind of tired," Hannah admitted. "Do you think I could lie down for a bit?"

"You must be exhausted!" Mary Margaret agreed. "Of course you can rest. Do you have pajamas in your backpack?"

Hannah shook her head.

"That's okay," Emma said, jumping back into the conversation. "I think I have something you can wear."

Hannah watched Emma head up to the loft. She pushed herself up off the sofa and walked to the other side of the kitchen, watching Emma quietly as she moved about.

"Here." Emma pulled a large t-shirt out of the dresser and tossed it down to Hannah at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm sure it will be a bit large on you, but it's comfy."

"Thank you," Hannah murmured, grateful not to have to sleep in the same clothes she'd slept in the previous night. She made a beeline for the bathroom so she could change in privacy. Although they were certainly dirty, she folded her shirt, jeans, and sweatshirt with care before slipping on Emma's night shirt.

It was baggy, the hem falling just below her knees, but it was soft and it smelled nice. Examining her reflection in the mirror, she frowned as she realized the shirt didn't completely cover all of her bruises. Hannah ran her fingers through her hair, fanning it out until it just barely covered the purple and yellow blotches. She'd have to make sure that she kept her hair covering her neck and shoulders when she went to lie down. While Emma had already seen them – some of them anyway – Hannah really didn't want anyone else knowing.

Picking up her folded clothes, Hannah carried them out of the bathroom.

Mary Margaret nodded in approval. "That shirt works well. Here, I'll take those. We'll wash them tonight.

"Thank you." Hannah glanced over at the sofa, where a pillow and several blankets were stacked neatly. "Is that where I'm sleeping?"

"Nope," Emma said from behind, startling Hannah. "That's where I'm sleeping. You're sleeping in my bed."

She shook her head, feeling bad over ousting Emma from her own bed. "You don't have to do that. I'll be fine on the sofa. I'm smaller, so I'll fit better."

"You're still taking my bed, Hannah, so there's no use arguing. Come on up, and Mary Margaret and I will get you settled in."

Resigned, Hannah headed for the stairs and began to climb them. She realized immediately that the metal steps were much more uncomfortable without the protection of her sneakers, and the soles of her feet ached with each step. Attempts to put more weight on her heels didn't help, as they were just as sore from her barefoot adventures the previous night.

Upon reaching the top, she stood to the side, allowing Emma and Mary Margaret to ascend the stairs as well. She watched quietly as Emma moved to pull the covers down while Mary Margaret dug an extra blanket out of a drawer.

"In you go," Mary Margaret said with a smile, blanket in hand.

Hannah sat gingerly on the side of the bed, pulling her feet up so she could slide them between the sheets. She took a hold of the top sheet, then leaned back until her head rested on the pillow and pulled the sheet up to her chin.

Mary Margaret sat next to her on the bed and pulled the quilt up to Hannah's chest. "How do you feel? Are you warm enough?"

"I'm fine," Hannah assured her.

"Well, I'll leave this extra blanket on the bed in case you feel cold later on." She nodded to the twin bed on the opposite side of the room, where Henry was already curled up on his side reading the book. "Henry's up here, too, and Emma, David, and I are just downstairs. If you need anything, you let us know, okay?" Mary Margaret smiled at Hannah's slight nod. She reached a hand out to brush the girl's bangs to the side before leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Sweet dreams, Hannah. I'm so glad you found me."

She still wasn't sure of the whole situation, but it was the first time Hannah had been tucked into bed in years, and she couldn't deny that it felt nice.

* * *

Hannah woke early the following morning. She couldn't hear any movement downstairs, and a glance at the other bed in the loft revealed that Henry was still fast asleep. She would have loved to have been sleeping, too, but her foot was aching. Pushing herself up so that she now sitting, Hannah brought her feet closer to the rest of her body. She could see small reddish-brown spots on the bottoms of both socks. It appeared some of the scrapes she'd incurred while walking barefoot two nights earlier had bled. Carefully she peeled off the sock on her aching foot and frowned. The skin around one of the scrapes near her toes was red and puffy, and when she lightly touched it with her finger she noticed that it felt hot. How was she going to walk without anyone noticing something was up?

Grimacing, she slipped the sock back on and scooted off the bed, trying her best not to put any pressure on that foot. The pain wasn't quite as bad when she stepped on the heel of that foot, so she tried to only walk on that heel. It resulted in a bit of a limp, but she managed to make it to the top of the stairs without waking Henry.

Hannah kept a death grip on the railing as she began to descend the stairs. She had to go slow, as her natural inclination was to walk on the balls of her feet and that wouldn't work with her foot. She was about halfway down when a voice caught her off guard.

"Good morning, Hannah."

She paused and turned to see David walking into the kitchen. It looked like he'd woken recently as well, as he was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants and was reaching for the coffeepot.

"Good morning, Mr. Nolan."

David chuckled. "I told you, Hannah; you can call me David."

Hannah shrugged slightly. "Sorry. Feels kind of weird."

"You'll get used to it. Would you like some breakfast?"

She really didn't want to trouble him. She'd be satisfied if she managed to make it down the stairs without slipping. "I'm okay," she assured him as she began to move.

"Whoa," David said as she made it down two more steps. "What's wrong with your foot?"

"Nothing," Hannah lied at once. "I'm fine." She tried to walk in a more normal manner, but accidentally pressed down the wrong part of her foot and hissed at the sudden sharp pain that shot through it.

He shook his head as he set his coffee cup down and approached the bottom of the stairs. "You most certainly are not fine." She'd just made it to the second to bottom step when David reached down and lifted her off her feet.

"Wha… what are you doing?" Hannah asked, slightly alarmed.

"Clearly you shouldn't be walking on that foot," he said, carrying her across the apartment to the sofa where Emma had slept the previous night – only, Hannah noticed, Emma was no longer there. David set her down gently on the sofa. "What happened?"

Hannah glanced around the apartment. "Where's Emma?"

"Bathroom," David replied, nodding to his left before sitting on the opposite end of the sofa. He reached over and grasped Hannah's ankle, pulling it toward him with care until her foot was on his lap. He started to remove the sock when Hannah tried to jerk her foot away. He had a firm hold of her ankle, though, so the action was futile. "Hannah, your foot is obviously hurt. I'm just going to take a look," he assured her.

"That's not necessary," Hannah said quickly. She heard a door open, and looked over to spot Emma exiting the bathroom.

Emma smiled when she saw Hannah. "Good morning, Hannah. Did you sleep well?"

Seeing Emma relaxed the girl a bit. She'd known her for less than a day, but it was still longer than she'd known David or Mary Margaret, and somehow she trusted Emma. "Yes, thank you."

The blonde then noticed David sitting there with Hannah's foot in his lap. "What's going on?"

"She was limping pretty bad coming down the stairs," David explained. "I think she's hurt her foot, but she doesn't want me to take a look."

The stubbornness didn't surprise her. Shaking her head ruefully and grabbing the back of an armchair, Emma dragged it closer to the sofa so she could sit by her sister. "Hannah, if you're hurt we need to know so we can help. David isn't going to hurt you."

"I'm fine," repeated Hannah as she once again tried to tug her foot from David's hands.

"I think it's amusing that you still think you can lie around me. Let David take a look at your foot. He'll be as gentle as he can."

Sighing, Hannah leaned against the arm of the sofa and stopped fighting David. The soon-to-be father of two felt her relax and resumed his efforts to remove her sock. Though he worked with care, Hannah still hissed as the fabric rubbed over the ball of her foot.

David examined the foot in shock. He could see where her foot had been scraped up in several places, and he couldn't miss the large red lump right in the middle of Hannah's toes and arch. "Hannah, it looks like your foot is infected," he said, catching Emma's attention and spurring the woman to rise from her seat and move next to David so she could survey the injury herself.

"Hannah…" she breathed out in shock. "What happened?"

Unable to remain in denial now that they'd seen her foot, Hannah shrugged. "It wasn't like this yesterday."

"I want to see the other foot," Emma told her.

"It's not…"

"Foot, Hannah."

She wasn't thrilled at being cut off, and rolled her eyes slightly as she shifted her other foot so David and Emma could see it better. If Emma noticed the eye roll, she didn't acknowledge it. Like the first foot, David removed the sock on her other foot with care. Hannah hadn't looked at that foot before, so she wasn't sure what it looked like, though she imagined it was also covered with scrapes – it had been the night she'd run away.

"How did you scratch up your feet like this?" Emma asked as she examined the red lines and small scabs adorning the bottom of Hannah's foot.

Hannah tensed her foot as Emma touched one of the scratches. Her touch was light enough that it didn't hurt, but it did tickle. "I was walking barefoot on the pavement outside."

Emma couldn't imagine Hannah scraping up her feet like this on a sidewalk or driveway, but she couldn't detect any dishonesty. "Why were you walking barefoot?"

The girl pressed her lips together, hesitant to answer. While Emma knew some of the details of Hannah's journey to Maine, David didn't, and Hannah really didn't want to have to answer other questions. However, judging by the look in Emma's eyes, Hannah suspected the woman wouldn't let it go without an answer.

"Shoes make more noise than bare feet," she said softly.

Emma nodded slightly, and Hannah knew she understood. "How long were you walking this way?"

"About an hour."

Setting Hannah's feet back on the sofa, David stood. "We'll wait until Mary Margaret wakes, but it looks like a trip to the doctor is in order."

Hannah shook her head emphatically. "No. No doctors."

"Look," Emma said, claiming the space on the sofa that David had just vacated. "Now that you know the truth about Storybrooke, I can tell you with certainty that there is zero chance of anyone from social services coming to Storybrooke to take you back to Massachusetts. People from this world cannot find Storybrooke without help. Besides that, you've been reunited with your birth mother. You are _safe_ , Hannah. No one at the hospital is going to take you away from Mary Margaret."

"No doctors," repeated the eleven-year-old. "I don't want to go to the doctor and you can't make me."


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter just sort of wrote itself (in record time, I might add, considering I didn't have any of it written when I posted chapter 5). It didn't quite go the way I'd originally planned, so I'm not sure what I think of it. Feedback would be lovely.**

* * *

"Which foot is it that hurts?"

Hannah glared at the nurse. "Touch my foot and I'll kick you."

To Hannah's utter dismay, she'd lost her battle against seeing a doctor, and now she was seated on a bed in a small area of the ER. She thought it ridiculous that she have to visit the ER for a little swelling in her foot, but apparently Storybrooke didn't have an outpatient doctor's office. This was only compounded by the mortification of having had David carry her from the apartment to the car and from the car into the hospital because Mary Margaret declared that Hannah wasn't putting an ounce of weight on her foot until a doctor had taken a look.

Soon after, Mary Margaret had disappeared, leaving David and Emma to get Hannah checked in. Hannah wasn't sure where her mother had gone (it was taking some getting used to, remembering that she now had a mom in her life) but she was grateful for the chance to sit on one of the less-than-comfortable chairs in the main waiting area without anyone fussing over her. Unfortunately, that small window of bliss hadn't lasted long, as ten minutes later she found herself being wheeled (in a wheelchair, at least, instead of carried in David's arms again) back to a room that held several beds, each one partitioned from the others by curtains.

A handful of minutes after that, a nurse had arrived to check her vitals. Hannah hadn't fussed over having the woman check her blood pressure, pulse, or temperature, but now the woman wanted to see her foot and Hannah wasn't having any of it.

"Hannah!" Mary Margaret scolded as she entered the exam area with a thirty-something doctor. She noticed immediately how tired David and Emma seemed. Henry, who was sitting in a chair with a handheld video game device, widened his eyes slightly before returning to his game.

"What?" Hannah asked innocently, unfazed by Mary Margaret's frown. "I was giving her fair warning. Her fault if she chooses to ignore it." She shifted her gaze to the light-haired man in the lab coat, surveying him with disdain. "Just so we're clear, the same warning applies to you."

To Hannah's frustration, the man seemed mildly amused. "I'd prefer you didn't, but I'll keep your warning in mind."

"I'm absolutely fine, so you're not needed in here, Dr…" Hannah leaned forward to read his nametag and had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping. "Seriously?!" she demanded, eyes darting back to Mary Margaret.

"You were bound to meet sooner or later," Mary Margaret explained calmly, a little surprised by Hannah's sudden attitude. It was a drastic change to the reserved child she'd met the previous afternoon. "Besides, Dr. Whale is the head doctor here at Storybrooke General, and I'd prefer having the best to make sure you're all right."

Hannah eyed Whale warily. "So, you're my birth father?"

He smiled, and despite the fact that he was a doctor, he didn't seem half bad. "It would appear so. It's nice to finally meet you, Hannah."

"I'm reserving judgement for now," she told him.

"Fair enough," was his reply. He momentarily turned his attention to the nurse. "How are her vitals?"

"Pulse and BP are both normal," the nurse said. "Temperature is 99.7ºF."

Whale nodded. "Thank you, Karen. I'll take it from here."

The nurse nodded and took her leave. Hannah was grateful, but she still had Dr. Whale to contend with, and she wasn't sure what she thought of him just yet.

"So, Hannah," Whale started, catching Hannah's attention once more. "I hear you have a sore foot?"

She shrugged as if it was no big deal. "It's a little red and sore. Hardly worth the trip here. They're making a big deal out of nothing."

"Hmm," he said in understanding, taking a seat on the mobile stool by the exam bed. "How about you let me be the judge of that? Scoot back on the bed for me and straighten out your legs so I can see your feet. I'm just going to look right now."

She watched him with skepticism, but nonetheless cooperated, scooting back and straightening her legs in front of him. She figured that once he was close enough, if he tried anything funny with her feet she could easy whack him in the face. Mary Margaret wouldn't like it, but as far as Hannah was concerned, self-preservation beat out parental disappointment.

Leaning over just a bit, Whale surveyed the bottoms of Hannah's feet. "How did you get these scratches and scrapes?"

It was a safe enough question, she decided. "I was walking barefoot on pavement."

"When did this happen?" he asked, his eyes still focused on her feet.

"Friday night."

Whale shifted so he could focus on the particularly injured foot. He noticed that a large portion of the skin between Hannah's toes and arch was red and swollen. "And when did this foot start hurting?"

"This morning."

That was a rather short amount of time for so much swelling to occur around a scrape, he thought. Whale suspected that both of Hannah's feet – which looked sore enough just with the scrapes – had hurt before that morning, but he was sure any swelling the previous day would have been noticed, if for no other reason than it would have affected her ability to walk normally. "All right. I'm going to have to feel your foot to know for sure what's going on. I'll be as gentle as I can."

At once, Hannah pulled both her feet closer to her torso, treating Dr. Whale to an impressive glare. "Over my dead body."

"Hannah," Mary Margaret said in a warning tone.

Dr. Whale merely raised an eyebrow as he met Hannah's angry gaze. "Do you want your foot to get worse?" Hannah didn't answer, but her glare lost some of its edge. "Because that's what's going to happen if we do nothing," Whale continued. "The swelling will increase, your foot will hurt even more, and if there's an infection in your foot, it could spread to your bloodstream. If that happens, Hannah, you'll be admitted to the hospital with an IV in your arm to deliver around the clock antibiotics for at least a couple of days. You'll have doctors and nurses poking and prodding at you every couple of hours. Is refusing to let me examine your foot worth all that?"

She didn't want to admit it, but it definitely wasn't worth all that. Hannah wasn't thrilled that this doctor – her biological father, no less – could reason with her like this without raising his voice. Wishing she could throw something to boost her mood, Hannah slowly extended her left foot so that the doctor had a better view.

He grasped the bottom of her heel with one hand and lightly ran his finger over the swollen area. Dr. Whale noted that the skin felt very warm to the touch. To Hannah's dismay, he pressed a few spots (causing her to wince and yelp), also noting that the underlying tissue felt firm to the touch. In the middle of the swollen area, he could see a scrape that had to have been the source of the infection. The skin around that scrape was the deepest red.

"It looks to be cellulitis," Whale announced, looking up at Mary Margaret. "The skin tissue around one of these scrapes has become infected. The good news is that it should respond well to antibiotics." Focusing on the child on the bed, he said, "I have a question for you, Hannah. When you say you were walking barefoot on the pavement, where exactly was this? A sidewalk? A patio? A driveway?"

"Part of the time on the sidewalk…" Hannah replied, not sure where Whale was going with this. "Part of the time on the side of the road… I was walking in the woods for a minute or two, also. Why?"

"Mary Margaret, do you happen to know when Hannah last had a tetanus vaccine?"

Mary Margaret shook her head slowly. "No, I don't know anything about Hannah's medical history." She realized it was something she needed to know, though, and she made a mental note to talk to Emma later about finding such information.

"Hannah, can you remember when you last had any sort of vaccination?"

Hannah shrugged. She avoided shots like the plague when she could, so she most definitely remembered the last time she hadn't been able to avoid one. "My foster family last year made me get a flu shot."

"Because of where Hannah was walking when she scraped her feet, there is a chance that she was exposed to the bacterium that causes tetanus," Dr. Whale explained to the adults in the room. "In addition to prescribing a ten-day course of amoxicillin, I want to go ahead and give her a dose of the vaccine. There's still a chance of infection if she's been exposed, even with the vaccine, but it could reduce the risk."

"Of course," Mary Margaret said quickly. "Whatever you think is best."

"I'll be right back."

Watching Dr. Whale step out of the partitioned area, closing the curtain behind him, Hannah pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and wrapped her arms around her chest. "I don't care what he says; he's not sticking me with any needles. I'll hit him if he even tries."

Mary Margaret sighed. "Hannah Victoria, that's enough," she said firmly. She gave her daughter a pointed look when the eleven-year-old met her gaze. "What is this attitude about? Is it the fact that Dr. Whale is your father or the fact that he's a doctor?"

Hannah looked away, frowning. It wasn't the fact that the doctor was her father. If he'd had any other profession, she probably would have liked him. "I told you I didn't want to see a doctor."

"I know you did, sweetie, but as David and I told you at home, it isn't optional. You have an infection in your foot, Hannah. It will only get worse if left untreated."

"I'll take the antibiotics, but I'm not letting him stick me with any needles."

Mary Margaret let out an exasperated sigh. Arguing with Hannah was exhausting, and at nine months pregnant, she didn't have a lot of energy to begin with. She watched Hannah sit there, arms wrapped protectively around her body, and decided not to press further until Dr. Whale returned. Hannah was going to get that vaccination one way or another, regardless of how she felt about it, but Mary Margaret so no reason to continue wasting her energy in the meantime. The way she figured, she might as well conserve that energy for Whale's return.

To her surprise, Emma, who had been watching quietly, stepped forward. She sat on the edge of the bed next to Hannah and looked over at her. "Fear of needles?" Emma questioned in a hushed tone.

Hannah eyed Emma without turning her head toward her and shrugged. "Maybe." She did have an aversion to needles – she'd given her prior foster family hell when they'd insisted on a flu shot – but it wasn't the only reason for her stubbornness just then.

"Mmm," Emma replied noncommittally, nodding in understanding. "Is that the only reason you're worked up over a shot?"

It unnerved Hannah how well Emma seemed to understand her. Feeling self-conscious, she turned her head away from her older sister, refusing to answer.

"Perhaps you're worried about other people seeing what I saw yesterday?"

How did she do it? Hannah twisted back to face Emma, a mixture of disbelief and vulnerability plastered on her face. "How…?"

Emma ignored her question. "You know that this vaccine is necessary, right? Dr. Whale isn't just advising a dose just for the hell of it. You could get really, really sick if you don't do everything he says. That means taking any medicine he says to take, and a vaccine is a type of medicine."

Hannah did understand that, and she really didn't want to get worse. She was surprised enough that she had a low-grade fever – no one had talked about it, but she understood measurement of temperature enough to know that 99.7ºF was higher than normal. However, Emma had been correct in surmising that Hannah was scared of needles, and even more than that, she didn't want everyone seeing the marks she'd worked so hard to keep hidden.

"I don't want anyone else to know," she whispered.

"Do you remember what I said yesterday about getting checked out by a doctor? That still needs to happen, and this is the perfect opportunity. You know Dr. Whale isn't going to try to call social services, and he certainly won't try to take you away from Mary Margaret. He's probably the perfect person to give you a quick checkup and make sure you aren't hurt."

Hannah shook her head softly. "I'm fine."

"What I saw yesterday tells me you aren't fine, Hannah."

It was at that moment that Dr. Whale returned carrying a tray and a slip of paper. He set the tray down and handed the slip of paper to Mary Margaret. "Here's the prescription for the amoxicillin. Hannah needs to take one dose every twelve hours for ten days, and you should go ahead and have her take her first dose as soon as you get home."

"Thank you, Dr. Whale."

Emma looked over at her father and son. Perhaps she'd get Hannah to relax a bit with fewer people in the room. "Hey kid," she said, smiling when Henry looked up at her. "Are you thirsty?"

Henry seemed to think about it for a moment and then shrugged. "Sure."

She scooted off the bed and fished a couple of dollar bills out of her pocket. "Here," she said, placing the money in his hand. "I'm pretty sure there's a vending machine downstairs. You and David can get something to drink." Turning to her father, she offered him an apologetic smile at his curious look. "Could you guys give us a couple of minutes?"

He seemed hesitant, but after a moment, David nodded. "All right. C'mon Henry. Let's see if there's anything down there that your grandmother would never let us buy." Throwing Mary Margaret a wink, he draped an arm across Henry's shoulders and guided him out of the exam area.

It was a start, but Hannah wasn't satisfied. "Just you," she whispered to Emma with pleading eyes.

To Hannah's dismay, Emma shook her head. "Sorry, kid. Mary Margaret stays."

She'd stayed silent, but Mary Margaret was growing concerned over Emma and Hannah's conversation. "Emma, what's going on?"

"There's something you need to know about," Emma explained as she watched her baby sister, who was hugging herself even tighter if possible. "C'mon, Hannah. It will be over before you know it."

"I don't want to."

"I know."

Hannah stared at Emma, hoping she might relent, but the woman only raised an eyebrow. If she couldn't sweet talk Emma, there was no way she was talking her way out of this. She wished she could wave a magic wand and find herself back at the apartment, away from prying eyes.

Sighing in defeat, she moved to unzip her sweatshirt, slowly extracting her arms from the sleeves. She balled the article of clothing in her lap, regretting the decision she'd made to pull her hair back into a low ponytail when she'd gotten dressed earlier (a process she'd demanded she be allowed to complete on her own, despite Mary Margaret's insistences that she might need help with her foot) because she knew the t-shirt didn't completely cover the marks.

Hannah stared at her lap, not at all interested in seeing their reactions, though she could clearly hear Mary Margaret's soft gasp. "Hannah…" the brunette murmured. "What happened to you?"

"It's nothing," Hannah mumbled. "I can hardly feel it."

In her peripheral view, she could see Dr. Whale return to the stool in front of her. His fingers brushed over the bruises on her neck, gently shifting her shirt to the side as he followed the bruising to her shoulder. He didn't press on the skin, and Hannah was grateful for his gentleness.

"Can you lift your head up for me, Hannah?" he asked.

She did as he asked, though she avoided eye contact with everyone in the room. His hand moved to her chin and gently turned it to the side, she assumed to give him a better view.

"Who did this to you?"

Even though she knew Emma already knew the truth, Hannah's first instinct was to shrug it off. "It's nothing, really. I can be such a klutz, and…"

"Hannah."

Slowly, she turned her head until she could clearly see Dr. Whale's face. His expression was serious, his eyes full of concern. "You have finger-shaped bruises on your neck, Hannah. Someone wrapped their hand around your neck, hard. That isn't 'nothing'. Who did this to you?"

Knowing that denying it was futile at that point, Hannah decided that refusing to answer was her only option. "I don't want to talk about it," she whispered.

Whale sighed softly. "Do you have any other bruises?"

Hannah pressed her lips together, debating whether to tell. They'd already seen what Emma had seen, and she supposed Mary Margaret might make a big deal if she saw something new later on. Slowly, she reached over and pulled up the sleeve by that shoulder. She didn't need to look down to know that she had more oval-shaped bruises, these ones a mixture of purple and yellow, wrapped around her upper arm.

She sat still as Dr. Whale took a moment to examine her arm. "Any other marks, Hannah?" he asked in a soft voice.

Hannah knew she had a few more marks, but there was a chance to avoid having to reveal them with clever wording. "I don't have any other bruises," she replied shaking her head.

Unfortunately, it seemed she couldn't get anything passed him because looked her straight in the eye. "That isn't what I asked, Hannah."

Hannah sighed. "My back."

"May I look?"

She shrugged.

Standing, Dr. Whale walked around the bed so he could see her back. Carefully, he lifted the back of Hannah's shirt, exhaling hard as he surveyed several long, pink lines stretched across the otherwise pale skin. They seemed to be several days old, at least, and as he gently touched one, Hannah hardly reacted.

Replacing her shirt, he moved to perch on the edge of the bed so he could talk to her more on her level. He had just met her – he certainly hadn't had a chance to get to know her – but Whale was struggling to keep his cool seeing the evidence that someone had been mistreating his daughter. He couldn't allow himself to 'lose it' though. Getting emotional would only upset Hannah further.

"Listen," he said what he hoped was a gentle enough tone. "I know you don't want to talk about this, Hannah, but as a doctor…" He took a breath. "…as your _father_ , I cannot allow you to leave this hospital without knowing for sure that what has been happening to you won't continue to happen. I need to know who hurt you so I can make sure they can _never_ hurt you again."

"I don't want to be sent back," she admitted quietly. "I… I don't want to leave Storybrooke."

Mary Margaret had explained that Hannah had previously been in foster homes, but she hadn't provided any details. "You don't want to be sent back where?" prodded Whale.

She was afraid to say, but Mary Margaret, Dr. Whale, and Emma – they seemed to be taking her injuries seriously. No one else had even bothered to look before. Hannah wondered if the only way to avoid having to go back to the Flints was to be honest with these people. "My foster parents. I don't want to go back."

"Are they the ones who hurt you?"

Hannah nodded wordlessly.

"Thank you, Hannah." He offered what he hoped was a comforting smile. "How about we finish up so you can get out of here?"

She watched him rise from the bed and move to grab a wrapped alcohol swab from the tray he'd brought a few minutes earlier. "I don't like needles," she admitted, feeling vulnerable without her sweatshirt on.

"Most people don't, even adults." Ripping open the packaging, Whale held the swab in one hand as he used the other to gently pull Hannah's sleeve up until it stretched over her shoulder, leaving her arm bare. He wiped an area on her upper arm, just below her shoulder, then discarded the swab in the medical waste bin. "All right," he continued. "You're going to feel a small pinch, and then it might sting or burn for a couple of seconds. I need you to stay still, though. After that, it will be over and done with. I promise, I will make this as quick as I possibly can."

Hannah was about to grumble a little when Mary Margaret sat on the other side of her, gently grasping her hand. "Turn your head and close your eyes. Squeeze my hand if it helps you feel better."

The eleven-year-old leaned her head on Mary Margaret's shoulder, closing her eyes tight. She felt a hand on her arm, and then moments later a sharp pinch in her arm. The area immediately began to burn, and Hannah made a bit of a whining noise in the back of her throat as she squeezed Mary Margaret's hand. After several seconds, the burning began to dissipate, replaced by pressure. Hannah cracked open an eye and shifted her head to find Dr. Whale placing a band-aid over a small cotton ball on her arm.

Realizing she was watching him, Whale smiled. "All done."

"Do I get to leave now?" she asked, sighing softly as Mary Margaret let go of her hand and reached behind to gently rub her back.

"In just a minute," he promised, and Hannah could hear a hint of amusement in his voice. She was too emotionally drained to fuss over it. "Let me see your foot one more time. No poking, I promise."

Hannah cooperated, and she watched as Dr. Whale gently traced a line around the swelling on her foot with a sharpie. It struck her as odd, and she couldn't contain her curiosity. "What are you doing?"

"I'm marking where the swelling ends. It will make it easier to see whether the swelling continues to spread or whether it starts to recede. You're going to come back here in three days so I can check to make sure your foot is healing. If not, we'll look at some different medicine." Dr. Whale turned his attention to Mary Margaret. "I want her to stay off of that foot in the meantime, so we'll get her a pair of crutches before you leave. Any questions?"

To be honest, Mary Margaret was exhausted from the mornings' events, but she felt relieved that Hannah's foot would, with any luck, be on the mend soon. "No, I think I'm good. Thank you, Dr. Whale."

"I suppose you should probably start calling me Victor," Whale said. It felt odd – no one had really called him that since before the curse – but he didn't think woman with whom he'd had a child should have to address him by his last name all the time. "Dr. Whale is overly formal considering our connection."

Hannah tilted her head in curiosity. "Is that why my middle name is Victoria?"

"What?" Mary Margaret asked, momentarily confused by Hannah's question. She hadn't thought about that connection before, but she could see how Hannah could make the leap. "Oh, no. I didn't even know that his real name was Victor then. I only knew him as 'Dr. Whale'. I just liked the name."

"So it's just a coincidence?" Hannah prodded skeptically. "I'm not sure I buy that."

"I hear you, kid," Emma said with a rueful smile. "Coincidences around here usually aren't really coincidences."


	7. Chapter 7

Less than an hour later, Hannah was seated next to Henry in a booth at Granny's. David and Mary Margaret were seated opposite them, and Emma had pulled up a chair to sit at the end of the booth. The moment Mary Margaret had seen her Hannah's foot she'd rushed to throw on clothes and insisted they leave for the doctor immediately. As a result, no one had actually eaten breakfast beforehand. Wanting to make sure that they had a chance to find some clothes for Hannah, Mary Margaret had suggested a late breakfast at Granny's once they'd picked up Hannah's prescription and a mild pain reliever at the pharmacy.

Hannah was glad for the opportunity to sit, because she wasn't enjoying her crutches in the least. Whale had ensured they were the right height before they'd all left the hospital, but Hannah still found them to be dreadfully uncomfortable, and she wasn't used to putting so much weight just on one foot – especially when her "good" foot was also a little sore. David had gladly offered to carry her, but Hannah balked at the thought of being carried around like a baby. She hadn't had the opportunity to make any friends other than Henry (and really, he was family, so it was different), and she was sure that any opportunities would be ruined if the other kids in town saw her being carried around like that.

Just as Ruby sat Hannah's plate of pancakes, bacon, and fruit on the table, Mary Margaret reached over and placed two pills, one larger than the other, beside the plate. "Take your medicine before you eat."

Hannah gently rubbed her upper arm, which to her dismay had become tender to the touch. "My arm hurts," she complained softly before reaching for the pills. She popped them both in her mouth at the same time then quickly washed them down with a large gulp of water. She would have been content with just juice or cocoa to drink, but Mary Margaret had insisted she have a glass of water as well for taking her medicine.

"Tetanus shots can do that," Emma sympathized. She and Henry had both been immunized, but she knew her parents couldn't relate – they'd probably never received a vaccine in their lives, considering they'd grown up in a land without modern medicine.

"How does your foot feel?" questioned Mary Margaret. "Do you need to prop it up on something?"

The eleven-year-old shook her head. "It's fine." It wasn't a lie. As long as she remained seated in that booth, her foot was okay. She managed to prop it up with her other foot so it didn't press against the hard tiled floor, and she suspected that the pain reliever she'd just taken would kick in within a few minutes anyway.

"Let me know if it starts to bother you, okay? I don't want you to think you have to sit there and deal with the pain."

"Okay."

Hannah ate quietly for a couple of minutes while the others talked. She was grateful that they were giving her some time to just eat and observe without having to join in the conversation. Despite everything that had already happened, Hannah had only known Henry for 24 hours, and she'd known Emma, Mary Margaret, and David even less than that. She liked them, as much as she could like anyone without _really_ knowing them, but she still needed time to process everything. Never in her wildest dreams had Hannah ever expected to find her family so soon after arriving in Storybrooke and that family was bigger than she had imagined. Not only did she have a biological mom AND a biological dad, both of whom were still living, but she also had a stepfather, a half-sister, and a nephew who, coincidentally, was nearly a year older than she was. She hadn't even counted the younger half-brother or half-sister that she'd have whenever Mary Margaret went into labor.

"Hannah, do you feel up to doing a little bit of shopping after breakfast?" Mary Margaret asked after several minutes. "I know you didn't bring any extra clothes with you, and I wanted to make sure you had some things to wear. If you're too tired or your foot is bothering you too much, Emma has agreed to pick up a few things for you while we head back to the apartment, but I thought you might like to pick out your own clothes."

She didn't relish the thought of maneuvering around on her crutches, but Hannah did want to be able to choose her own clothes if she could. "I'd like to go with you," Hannah said softly.

"Then that's what we'll do."

An hour and a half later, what had seemed like a good idea at the time was quickly proving anything but. Although she now had several shirts, two pairs of pants, a pair of pajamas, and a couple of packages of underwear and socks, Hannah was absolutely done with her crutches. Her armpits were sore, her hands ached from having to grip onto the crutches, and her whole body was exhausted from the effort involved in walking differently than normal. Her "good" foot was hurting more from putting extra weight on it. The pain reliever she'd taken at breakfast had somewhat reduced her discomfort from the tetanus shot, but she still had a nice lump forming at the injection site, and the pill had done nothing for her sore feet.

Glancing over at Hannah, who had parked herself on the nearest bench, Mary Margaret made a decision. "I think we're done shopping for today. We can come back another day."

"This is enough," Hannah said, gesturing to the small pile of clothes the lady at the register was ringing up. "You don't have to get me any more clothes."

Mary Margaret dismissed that thought at once. "Nonsense," she said, shaking her head. "These clothes will last you a couple of days at most. Of course you'll need more clothes. I can just see how tired you are, and I think it would be best for us to go home now so you can rest. We'll continue on another day after your foot has healed."

Hannah figured it would do little good to argue with Mary Margaret at that point, so she just nodded and waited while Mary Margaret and Emma took care of the clothes. Once they were finished, she pushed herself up onto her "good" foot and slowly made her way out to Emma's car with them.

The ride back to the loft was brief, but Hannah was more tired than even she'd thought, and she felt her eyes drooping along the way. When the car finally stopped, she had to rub her face and stretch a bit to feel alert enough to exit the car on her own. No one said anything as they entered the building, but Hannah stopped short when she saw David standing near the bottom of the stairs.

"What are you doing down here?" she asked curiously.

"I'm here to help you up the stairs," David said with a smile.

Immediately Hannah shook her head forcefully. "Nuh uh. I can walk up the stairs on my own. I'm not a baby!"

"Of course you're not a baby," replied David. "I promise no one here thinks that of you. It's a long way up to the apartment, though, when you're trying to hop on one foot, and you can't really use the crutches on the stairs."

"I don't need help," Hannah insisted as she held the crutches together under one arm and tentatively placed her hurt foot on the first step.

Before she could place any pressure on that foot, though, her crutches were gently tugged from her grasp, her feet were swept out from beneath her and she suddenly found herself somewhat cradled between David's arms. She half-shrieked in indignation.

"Mr. Nolan!"

David chuckled. "It's David," he reminded her, "and you can complain all you want but I'm afraid you aren't going to get your way this time. Dr. Whale said you have to stay off that foot for at least the next three days."

Huffing, Hannah folded her arms over her chest and pouted as David carried her up to the loft. She'd hoped he'd set her down the moment they reached the landing, but David carried her all the way into the apartment and over to the sofa, where he finally set her down gently. She watched as Emma, who had apparently been the one to confiscate her crutches, placed the walking aids on the floor so that they leaned against the table.

"I saw you struggling not to nod off in the car," Emma told her with a knowing look. "You might have tripped over your own two feet in your sleep-induced haze."

Hannah sighed. "I don't like when you do that."

Emma arched an eyebrow in moderate amusement. "You don't like when I do what?"

"When you use reason and logic. I can't argue with you when you do that."

The older sister chuckled. "Sorry. Take your shoes off and lie down."

"I'm not really that tired…" Hannah tried.

"Nice try."

It really was annoying that she couldn't pull anything past Emma. She pulled off her sneakers before stretching out on the sofa, resting her head on one of the throw pillows.

Emma covered her with a blanket and settled into a nearby chair. To Hannah's surprise, Mary Margaret came over and sat on the nearest armchair, the _Once Upon a Time_ book on her lap. "I know Henry shared this book with you last night, but I'm sure you didn't get a chance to read the whole thing and I thought you might like to hear more about where you come from."

She hadn't been read to, outside of school, in years, and although part of her wanted to shrug it off as something babyish, a larger part of Hannah secretly craved the attention and the chance to listen to someone else reading. "Okay," she agreed softly, pulling the blanket up to her chin and shifting so she was curled up on her side.

Mary Margaret opened the book and flipped through the pages until she found the one she wanted. As she began to read, Hannah felt her eyelids droop once more. The last thing she heard before dozing off was Mary Margaret's voice reading a story about her childhood, back when King Leopold and Queen Eva had both still been alive.

* * *

"I don't need these crutches anymore. My foot hardly hurts."

"You have an appointment tomorrow morning with Dr. Whale. If he says that you no longer need the crutches, then you can stop using them. In the meantime, you're staying off that foot like he instructed."

Hannah huffed in frustration. "But my foot is healing!" she pointed out with a slight twinge of a whine.

Mary Margaret nodded in agreement. "Yes, your foot is healing. It looks a lot better than it did two days ago. However, Dr. Whale made it clear that you were to stay off of that foot until he saw you again."

It didn't escape Hannah's notice that Mary Margaret continued to refer to the man as "Dr. Whale". She wondered if at some point, the woman would start saying "your father" instead. She'd also noticed that _everyone_ in town said "Dr. Whale" and not "Victor". It seemed odd, but maybe it was part of the curse. "So why can't we go back today instead of tomorrow?" Hannah suggested, thinking this made perfect sense.

"Three days, Hannah."

Pouting, Hannah kicked the coffee table with her "good" foot. Immediately Mary Margaret fixed her with a stern gaze, prompting Hannah to look away.

"You seem tired," Mary Margaret observed, chalking the excessive irritability to exhaustion. She knew that moving around with crutches took more of Hannah's energy that simply walking. "Perhaps you'd like to lie down and rest for a bit?"

Hannah's frown deepened. "I'm not a toddler who needs a nap."

"I never said you were," the young mother replied in a calm voice. "There's nothing babyish about resting when you're tired, though. I don't think sleeping on the sofa while your foot has been healing has helped you get enough rest, either. Come lie down on my bed."

"I don't need a nap."

"You don't have to sleep. We'll chat, or you could read a book if you'd like. Come."

"I can rest just fine here," she argued.

"Hannah."

She hadn't raised her voice, but her tone made it clear that she was done with Hannah's arguing. Sighing, the girl reached for her crutches, pushed herself to her feet, and grudgingly followed Mary Margaret into her "bedroom." She didn't think of it as being a real bedroom, since it was connected to another area by a doorless archway and was only separated from the kitchen by a light-colored curtain. Hannah sat on the bed and shifted so her whole bed stretched out across the mattress before Mary Margaret had a chance to pull down the covers. She would lie down, but she had no intention of sleeping. "Happy?" she asked. Though her tone wasn't overtly rude, she knew it probably wasn't the most polite question to ask considering the circumstances.

Mary Margaret smiled, ignoring the snippiness. "Quite." Moving to the other side of the bed, she took a seat, pulling her feet toward the rest of her body and placing one hand in her lap as the other reached out to comb back Hannah's hair. "Do you want to talk? If you'd rather read, Emma picked up a few books for you yesterday afternoon. She came home after you'd already fallen asleep, so she didn't have the chance to give them to you then."

Hannah hadn't read anything other than _the_ book since coming to Storybrooke, and she had to admit she was curious. "What books did she bring?"

"I'll go get them." Mary Margaret left the room quickly, returning moments later with a small bag. She reclaimed her spot on the bed, set down the bag, and pulled out a box set. She handed it to Hannah, who had pushed herself up to a seated position. "Emma said that you'd mentioned you were reading the first Harry Potter book back at your foster home, and that you were sad you couldn't bring it since it had been a library book. She thought you might like the whole set."

Hannah stared at the Harry Potter box set in shock. She _had_ been reading _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ back at the Flints' – she'd borrowed it from the school library the day she'd run away. Though she was a voracious reader, Hannah had only made it about halfway through the book that day. She'd been wishing she could finish the book, but her impression of Storybrooke so far was that it hadn't necessarily caught up with the rest of the modern world just yet, and she wasn't sure she'd find any recent kids' books at the little bookstore or the public library.

She ran her finger lightly over the spines, unable to believe that she not only had _Sorcerer's Stone_ but the rest of the series as well. "Where did she find it?"

"I believe Emma drove to a nearby town. She also picked up some _Percy Jackson_ books. She said that if you liked the _Harry Potter_ series, you might like those, as well."

"Thank you," Hannah said with sincerity.

"Make sure you thank Emma when she comes home."

Hannah nodded. "I will. May I read one now?"

Mary Margaret smiled, glad that she had found something positive to keep Hannah occupied. It wasn't enough though – she knew the girl had to be going crazy being confined to the apartment without anyone else her age to talk to besides Henry. "Of course. You know, I've been thinking that you need something to occupy your time," she said casually. "You've been mostly cooped up inside the apartment since Saturday night and I think you're getting a little antsy. Other kids your age are in school during the week. After Dr. Whale gives you the all clear, we should go ahead and enroll you in school."

Hannah wasn't sure how she felt about that. On one hand, it would be nice to be around kids her age other than Henry, and maybe she'd even make a friend. On the other hand, spending all day at school meant she would be away from the family she'd just met during that time, surrounded by complete strangers. Would they accept her as part of Storybrooke the way that Emma and Mary Margaret and the others had, or would they see her as an outsider?

Carefully removing the plastic wrapping, Hannah pulled _Sorcerer's Stone_ from the box before setting the rest of the books back in the bag and moving the bag to the nightstand. "I'll be the new girl," Hannah mumbled as she stared at the book cover. "They've probably all known each other since before the first curse."

"Actually, we've had other people pop up with the second curse," Mary Margaret admitted. "Those kids who weren't a part of the first curse were in the same boat you're in now."

"It's not the same," argued Hannah. "I'm not even from the Enchanted Forest."

Mary Margaret wrapped an arm around Hannah's shoulders. "That's an advantage for you. The kids coming from the Enchanted Forest aren't used to this world. You grew up in this world." Leaning over, she pressed a gentle kiss to her daughter's temple. "Don't worry about it right now. We'll talk about it more after your foot has healed. Just lie back down and relax."

To her relief, Hannah didn't argue this time. In fact, the eleven-year-old immediately twisted and stretched out on her stomach, setting the book on the pillow before quickly browsing for where she'd left off. Figuring the girl would be engrossed in her book, Mary Margaret ran her hand over the back of Hannah's head once before slipping off of the bed and heading out into the kitchen.

She found something to occupy her time, and it was nearly an hour before she thought to check on Hannah. Peeking through the curtain, she smiled the sight of her girl sprawled across the bed, one hand still holding the book open as Hannah slept. With any luck, she'd wake up feeling less crabby.

* * *

"Finally!" Hannah exclaimed, watching Whale enter the exam area. "Could you please tell them my foot is better so I can be rid of those stupid crutches?"

The books had provided a reprieve to much of Hannah's frustrations, as she spent a good deal of her time reading. She'd finished both _Sorcerer's Stone_ and _Chamber of Secrets_ and was already a quarter of the way through _Prisoner of Azkaban_ , all in less than 24 hours. The way with which she'd taken to reading had both surprised and pleased her mother and stepfather, who were grateful that she wasn't quite as bored. However, the times Hannah needed to move around the loft, she complained nonstop about the crutches. They were such an inconvenience for her when simply going to the bathroom, or moving from the sofa to the table for dinner. With the pain her foot beginning to subside, Hannah saw no reason not to put weight on that foot.

A quick glance at Mary Margaret and David told Whale that the two were exhausted. He could only imagine how much Hannah must have fussed about the crutches, given their expressions and Hannah's current annoyance. "Well, let's take a look and see how you're doing." Taking a seat on the stool at the end of the exam table, Whale raised his eyebrows in surprise as Hannah scooted back a little and extended her foot toward him.

Cradling Hannah's heel, Whale examined her foot. The swelling had shrunk considerably, and the skin was a light pink as opposed to the vibrant red he'd seen just days earlier. Pressing gently on the skin, he noted that although Hannah flinched slightly, she didn't vocalize her discomfort. It wasn't completely healed, but clearly she was on the mend.

"This looks a lot better," he confirmed.

"So I can ditch the crutches?" pressed Hannah.

"Tomorrow, if you're able to walk without limping, then you can stop using the crutches. I'll leave it up to your mom to make that determination. I want you to continue using the crutches for the rest of today, though."

It wasn't the response Hannah had hoped for, and frustration coursed through her veins. "You just said my foot looks a lot better…" she reminded Whale. "Why do I have to keep using the crutches today?"

"I don't want you putting weight on your foot while it still hurts," Whale explained calmly. "There's no reason for you to purposely put yourself through that kind of pain, and trying to keep weight off of that foot without using crutches could cause you to further injure yourself."

Hannah huffed. "It doesn't even hurt anymore."

He pressed the pad of her foot more firmly this time, arching an eyebrow at Hannah's involuntary yelp. Whale didn't relish causing her pain, but he knew the pressure he'd exerted was far less than the pressure her own body weight would put on her foot should she choose to walk on it. "You're going to continue to use the crutches today," he repeated in a firm tone. "Starting tomorrow, it will be up to your mother to decide whether or not you still need them."

She all but threw herself back against the exam table with a dramatic flair. "She'll _never_ let me stop using them!"

Whale rolled backward just a little on the stool and crossed his arms over his chest. The corners of his mouth turned upward in an amused smirk. "I thought we had a couple more years before the teenage theatrics started…" he remarked casually.

Hannah rolled her eyes in return. "You aren't nearly as funny as you think you are. Can we go now?" She turned to Mary Margaret, more than ready to get the heck out of the hospital. Her mother was frowning, one hand on her belly as the other hand grasped the arm of the chair. Hannah frowned as well. "What's wrong?"

"It's the baby," Mary Margaret said in a strained voice. "It's coming…"


	8. Chapter 8

The next several minutes were a whirlwind for Hannah. At once, everyone's attention had shifted to Mary Margaret, who was attempting to take deep breaths through a contraction. Dr. Whale had immediately called for a nurse and a wheelchair, and within minutes they were in a private room with Mary Margaret settled on the bed and David dutifully at her side, holding her hand. After checking Mary Margaret's progress, Dr. Whale had announced that she had a few more centimeters to go and would check on her again in a couple of minutes. Hannah felt a bit uncomfortable being in the room while Mary Margaret was in labor, but she didn't know anyone else in the hospital and she wasn't about to sit out in that waiting area alone.

Ten minutes later, Hannah spied Emma, Henry, and Henry's other mom in the hallway. Emma stepped into the room moments later, but the other two remained in the hallway.

"How are you doing?" Emma asked her mother.

Mary Margaret, who was in-between contractions at the moment, let out a heavy breath. "Zelena…" she said worriedly, her response quickly cut off by the onset of another contraction.

"Regina and I are taking care of that," Emma said. She looked over at her younger sister, who was presently curled up in one of the chairs, _Prisoner of Azkaban_ clutched in one hand. "Hey kid," she greeted Hannah. "Want to come out into the waiting area with us?"

Truth be told Hannah really _didn't_ want to leave the room now. She'd been the center of attention since arriving in Storybrooke, and although she hadn't asked for it, she couldn't deny that it felt nice to have people paying so much attention to her. After this baby was born, she'd no longer be the center of attention. While she believed that Mary Margaret loved her, she couldn't compete with the fact that this new brother or sister would be Mary Margaret AND David's, and they won't have missed half of its childhood already. The thought of losing any more time being her mother's only child under 18 gnawed at her stomach. She didn't want to be separated from Mary Margaret for any reason, despite the fact that she winced every time Mary Margaret experienced a contraction.

The way Emma had worded the question, however, made it clear that she expected Hannah to comply. Untucking her legs from beneath her, she slowly rose to her feet, tucking the book into a small shoulder bag that hung across her chest and retrieving her crutches. She had made it halfway across the room when Mary Margaret's strained voice stilled her.

"Hannah."

Turning, she saw that her mother had one hand outstretched toward her. Hannah approached the bed hesitantly. Mary Margaret's breathing was slowing down once again – the contraction must have passed, she thought. It wasn't as if she had much experience with childbirth – one foster mother had given birth while Hannah was in her care, but less than a week later she'd been shuffled to another home. Hannah had known it was because she was no longer wanted now that they had a _real_ daughter; she'd overheard those foster parents admitting as much to the social worker. It was a memory Hannah didn't want to relive, as it reminded her that Mary Margaret could come to the same conclusion.

Once she was within arm's reach, Mary Margaret gently grasped her arm, guiding her close enough to place a hand on each side of her face and press a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I love you," she said softly, offering a tired smile. "Listen to your sister, okay?"

Hannah thought the request was unnecessary, as she'd followed any and all directions from Emma so far, but she managed a small smile and a nod. She waited for Mary Margaret to release her before wordlessly following Emma out of the room and around the corner to the waiting room. Propping the crutches against a wall, she was about to claim the nearest chair when Emma pulled her into an impromptu hug.

The move caught her off guard at first, but after a moment Hannah shifted so she could wrap her arms around Emma. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment of comfort.

After several long seconds, Hannah pulled away, looking curiously at Emma. "What was that for?"

Emma smiled gently. "You looked like you needed a hug. Now, sit down before you put too much weight on that foot."

She rolled her eyes slightly, but Hannah sat down anyway and promptly retrieved her book. Mary Margaret's contractions had captured her attention back in the private room, but she could barely hear them in the waiting room. Maybe she could distract herself from her worries by getting lost in Harry's world.

* * *

Emma sighed as she approached Henry. "Listen, kid. I've got to go deal with witch, but it's going to be fine. I'll be back before you know it."

"I know," Henry with a smile. "I'm not worried."

Emma seemed perplexed. "You're not?"

Henry shook his head slightly. "Defeating bad guys is what you do."

Smiling, Emma pulled Henry into a hug.

She'd been watching the exchange silently, but Hannah couldn't stay quiet any longer. "I want to go with you," she declared, rising to her feet.

Emma shook her head firmly, striding across the room to give Hannah a brief hug before pulling back and resting her hands on the girl's shoulders. "It's too dangerous," she told Hannah. "Zelena is a threat and I will not knowingly put you in harm's way. Hook and I are going to go deal with her while you and Henry stay here with Regina. She'll protect you."

Hannah glanced over at Henry's other mother. The woman didn't look like she was any more interested in watching Hannah than Hannah was with being watched by her. "I don't even know her," Hannah protested, turning back to Emma. "Please, Emma. I promise I'll stay out of the way."

"It isn't about you being in the way, Hannah. It's about keeping you safe."

Regina wrapped an arm around Henry's shoulders, and the two joined Hannah and Emma. "Go," Regina said gently. "I'll keep them safe."

"Thanks," Emma said gratefully. She offered Henry and Hannah one last smile before turning and walking away.

Hannah watched her sister retreat with Hook before lowering herself back into the chair and pulling out her book. Maybe she'd be able to stay there and read and pretend that she wasn't being babysat by a complete stranger.

As she found the spot where she'd left off, she noticed out of the corner of her eye Henry taking a seat in the chair beside her. She didn't say anything at first, trying to get back into _Prisoner of Azkaban_ , but she heard the rustling of paper. After a minute, her curiosity got the better of her and she placed the open book in her lap, turning to get a better look at Henry. He had a newspaper in his hands. Hannah watched as Henry set the newspaper in his lap and circled something with a pen.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Henry looked up and smiled. "I'm looking for apartments."

Hannah tilted her head in confusion. "I know Storybrooke is a little different from the rest of the world, but do they let kids rent their own apartments here?"

The boy chuckled. "It's for Emma. It's a bit crowded at the loft, and even though I spend half of my time at Regina's, I figured we should start looking for our own place."

"It's my fault," Hannah said with a frown, feeling guilty all of a sudden. She'd had feelings of not quite belonging, but she hadn't stopped to consider how she'd inconvenienced everyone else. Emma had slept on the sofa the first night, and although Hannah had taken residence on the sofa since then due to her foot, she imagined that once she ditched the crutches Emma would insist she take the bed upstairs once again. "If I hadn't come to Storybrooke…"

"What?" Henry asked, confused for a split second before he realized Hannah's implication. "No! The loft was already crowded before you came, Hannah. I mean, three adults and a kid in that little place, not to mention the baby coming… Anyway, I love Emma, but what eleven year olds share a bedroom with their mother? If we get our own apartment, then you'll have the upstairs room to yourself, since the baby will be sleeping near Mary Margaret and David for a while, and Emma and I would each have our own room."

The plan made sense, but secretly Hannah hated the idea. She knew it was selfish to want everyone to continue to live in an increasingly cramped space just so she could be near Emma, but she didn't know how she'd do just living with Mary Margaret, David, and the new baby. Mary Margaret wouldn't have much time with her, what with a newborn to care for, and David was only her stepfather. Emma was her lifeline, and she didn't want to give up that lifeline anytime soon.

Henry turned back to the newspaper and circled something else, and Hannah took the opportunity to return to her book. She didn't know what else to say, so perhaps she could just read and not say anything. Emma would be back soon, and then she could forget about all of the changes taking place for at least a little while.

She'd managed to get through two more chapters before her attention was diverted by the arrival of Regina and a man Hannah had never met before.

"Mom?" Henry asked. Hannah noticed a twinge of concern in his voice. "What's wrong?"

"Zelena's here," Regina said. "Henry, I want for you and Hannah to go with Dr. Hopper and lock yourselves in a closet. This isn't going to be pretty."

Hannah wanted to argue that she wasn't going to just go with yet another person she didn't know, but Henry was out of his seat in an instant, and Hannah figured at least she'd still be with him. She glanced at her crutches for a split second before deciding that Regina's direction trumped the need for her crutches. After all, this seemed urgent, and her crutches would only slow her down. Holding her book with one hand, she rose to her feet and followed Henry and "Dr. Hopper" down the hall.

The situation had a monopoly on her attention, so she wasn't paying attention to how she was walking – or sprinting, to be honest. As a result, she was limping a bit by the time they reached the closet, and the moment they were inside she lowered herself to the ground to give her foot a rest. As Dr. Hopper checked to make sure the door was securely shut and locked, Henry sat across from Hannah. Glancing across at him, she noticed he was watching her intently with a mixture of amusement and disapproval. It was very much the way she imagined an older sibling might look at a younger sibling, but Henry was only a year older than she, and technically she was his aunt. "What?" she demanded in a hushed voice, not quite brave enough to speak normally in case Zelena heard her.

"I'm imagining what Emma and Mary Margaret will say when they find out you were walking around without your crutches," Henry mused under his breath. "I know you're supposed to be using them still, because you wouldn't have bothered with them in the waiting room otherwise."

Hannah narrowed her eyes at him. She'd liked Henry, but she was going to be seriously annoyed with him if he ratted her out. "Are you going to tell on me?"

Henry chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah. I'm not a snitch."

"Then what they don't know won't hurt them."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Chances are, Emma will return before we get out of here. Don't you think she'll notice your crutches out in the waiting room, or that you're walking out of here without them?"

She shrugged. "It would have taken too long to grab them and hobble down the hall on them. I might not have had time to make it to the closet before Zelena arrived. Safety first and all…"

He let out a soft snort. "Sure. Emma will believe that."

"The door is secure. Are you two all right?"

Hannah turned her attention to the man Regina had called Dr. Hopper, who was now crouched down beside them. "You're Dr. Hopper, right?"

Archie nodded with a soft smile. "That's correct. You can call me Archie if you'd prefer; Henry does. It's nice to meet you, Hannah."

"Nice to meet you, too," she said, albeit a bit awkwardly.

The psychiatrist nodded toward Hannah's leg. "I noticed you were limping a bit when we entered the closet," he observed. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," was her immediate response. "It's nothing."

She could tell that he knew she wasn't being completely truthful. Whether it was because he was good at spotting a lie, like Emma, or he had overheard her hushed conversation with Henry moments before, she wasn't sure. Hannah noticed that Archie's expression was neutral, though – he had a pleasantness to him, and didn't appear to be cross with her.

"You know, honesty is the best policy."

She'd been trying to figure out who was who in Storybrooke, and the honesty comment set off a bell in her mind. "You're Jiminy Cricket, aren't you?"

"I am."

Hannah nodded to herself. "The conscience thing. I'm not really _hurt_. I hurt my foot a couple of days ago, but it's getting better."

Archie gave a slight nod in understanding. "What about the crutches you left in the waiting room?"

She sighed. "I don't like them. They're really uncomfortable and they slow me down. I was supposed to be-"

A commotion could be heard in the hallway just then. Half a second later, there was a loud crash. Eyes glued to the door, Hannah scooted back until she was pressed against a shelf, knees pulled to her chest. She hadn't told anyone – she wouldn't have dared admit it to anyone, not even herself – but although she'd never met the witch, Zelena terrified her. She'd seen "The Wizard of Oz" more than once – the western witch was as wicked as they came, and although Dorothy had defeated her in Oz (at least in the movie), there was no Dorothy here in Storybrooke. She'd overheard the adults talking about how Emma was the only one who could beat Zelena. Hannah didn't know who Regina had been in the Enchanted Forest – she hadn't asked and no one had offered that information – but she wasn't sure how Regina was supposed to defeat her.

Then, of course, Hannah was worried about Emma. Emma had been on her way to confront Zelena. Had Zelena hurt her? Hannah didn't know what she would do if she lost the only person who seemed to understand her.

The sudden presence of something soft and warm on her hand made Hannah jump. Looking down, she saw Henry's hand gently covering hers. How had she not noticed him move so that he was beside her? Surprised and a little confused by the gesture, and still on edge from the present circumstances, she turned a questioning gaze toward the boy.

"We're safe," he whispered. " _You're_ safe. Emma and Regina won't let Zelena hurt us."

Apparently everyone else knew something about Regina that Hannah didn't. Still, Henry's gesture was a bit comforting. He was so confident of what he was saying that Hannah wanted to believe him, even if it seemed far-fetched.

"Thanks," she whispered, a bit shakily. She needed get her mind off of Zelena. "This is so backwards," she mused under her breath. "You're technically my nephew. I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around."

Henry adopted a hint of a smirk. "Maybe, but I'm still older than you. So really, I'm more like your older brother."

She was surprised to hear him voice her thoughts from just a few minutes prior. "By less than a year," she pointed out. "Don't think for a minute that I'm going to let you boss me around because of it."

The boy laughed, and his amusement was so infectious that Hannah couldn't help but crack a smile.


	9. Chapter 9

Hannah paced back and forth across the waiting room, a limping ball of agitation and fear. The adults – David, Emma, Hook, Robin, and Regina, at least – had gone after Zelena, who had apparently stolen her new little brother. _She was a big sister now_. Her fears of rejection had only grown since then, but they fought other emotions for dominance in her mind. Apparently Zelena had taken Emma's powers, so they weren't sure if Zelena could even be beaten at this point, despite Henry's unwavering belief that Regina could beat the witch with light magic. Would they make it back alive?

Henry seemed far less concerned from the chair he currently occupied, but then again, he had two mothers and loving grandparents who cherished him. There was no way they'd ever leave or get rid of _him_. She was far more expendable in her mind.

"Would you sit down already?" Henry demanded, a twinge of annoyance in his voice. "You're making me nervous, and you're making your foot worse."

Though she didn't stop, she did slow her pace. "My foot is just fine," she argued.

"Liar," the boy said, rolling his eyes. "You're limping even worse than before."

"I'm fine."

"She's going to be fine, you know." Hannah froze, and slowly turned to face Henry. "Emma. She's going to be fine."

"I didn't…"

"I can see how close you are to her, much closer than you are to your mom. I kinda understand. Emma grew up in the foster system, so she understands you."

That was news to Hannah. While it was true that she felt like Emma "got" her, no one had mentioned much about Emma's childhood other than the fact that she'd grown up in the real world instead of the Enchanted Forest. Hannah had just assumed that Emma had been adopted. Taking a few steps back, she slid down the wall and sat on the floor, bringing her knees gently to her chest. "She was in the system?"

Henry's brow furrowed. "You didn't know?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Oh."

The awkward silence that followed was broken several minutes later by the arrival of footsteps and new voices growing louder and louder. Glancing up, Hannah realized that the adults had returned. At the sight of Emma walking down the hallway, Hannah released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. At once, she propelled herself off the floor and made a beeline for her sister, nearly knocking over Emma as she threw her arms around her.

"Whoa!" Emma said in surprise, taking a step back to find her balance as she returned the hug. She could just faintly hear sniffling, and rubbed Hannah's back in a comforting gesture. "You're fine," she murmured. "You're safe."

Hannah shook her head, not looking up. "I wasn't worried about me," she admitted softly. "I was scared that something was going to happen to you."

Pulling back just enough to see Hannah's face, Emma offered her a smile. "I'm tougher than I look. Zelena is locked up and everyone else is safe, including our baby brother."

The eleven-year-old forced a smile. It wasn't that she wished the baby harm – she would never wish such a thing – but she couldn't bring herself to be truly happy about his arrival, not when she couldn't help but wonder what it would mean for her.

"So now that everyone is all right, do I even want to ask whether you used your crutches at all while I was away?"

Hannah stared at Emma's arched brown like a deer in headlights. "Uh…"

"The limping is glaringly obvious, and I'm fairly certain your foot wasn't bothering you like that before."

"Everything happened so quickly," Hannah protested weakly, gnawing on her lower lip.

The look on Emma's face made it clear she wasn't buying a word of it. "Hannah."

Looking down, Hannah lightly kicked her good foot. "Sorry," she muttered.

"I'll make you a deal," Emma said calmly, watching as Hannah lifted her gaze. "You'll use your crutches religiously and _without complaint_ for as long as Mary Margaret feels necessary, and I won't mention any of this to her. Do we have a deal?"

As much as her foot was bothering her, Hannah wasn't keen on using the crutches another minute. Still, she was fairly certain Mary Margaret would make more of a fuss than Emma had.

"Fine," she gave in, trudging across the room to collect her crutches. Situating one under each arm, she turned back to Emma with a displeased pout. "There. Happy?"

"Yup. So, ready to meet our new brother?"

* * *

She sat in a booth next to Henry at Granny's, listening to her mother and stepfather recount the details of how they'd fallen in love. She'd already heard the stories once, and considering everything she was feeling and the fact that only one of them was technically her parent, she wasn't really interested in hearing them again. However, she doubted she had a choice. Someone would say something if she asked to be excused, and really, where would she go? She didn't exactly know her way around Storybrooke.

She'd started to tune out when something Regina said caught her attention.

"Are you planning on going back to New York?"

She hadn't even realized that Regina was there, but more importantly, Hannah had no idea what the woman was talking about. Emma couldn't possibly be leaving Storybrooke, could she?

"Why would we go back to New York?" Henry asked, seeming equally confused. "This is our home!"

Emma hedged the questions. Hannah didn't like the uneasy look on her sister's face. "I don't really think this is the time or place to talk about this."

"I think it is," Regina countered.

"No, it's not." Frowning, Emma turned and walked out the door.

"I'll talk to her," Hook said.

Hannah watched as Hook took off after Emma, wishing desperately she could follow them. The idea of Emma wanting to return to New York with Henry was news to her, and she didn't know how to deal with it. Yes, she had family in Storybrooke, but she hadn't grown as close to any of them as she had with Emma. She hadn't seen her father since her checkup for her foot. Though she liked him, she didn't feel comfortable asking Mary Margaret if she could see him more. David was nice, but he was her stepfather, and there was no way he was going to care about her the way he did Emma and the baby. After all, they were his real children. Then there was Mary Margaret. She could tell that Mary Margaret cared (Hannah had yet to scare her off with the grumpy attitude she'd adopted since the drama with her foot, and she'd started holding the slightest shred of hope that Mary Margaret wouldn't toss her aside like several of her foster parents had), and it was nice having a mother again, even if Hannah couldn't bring herself to call her 'Mom' just yet, but watching Mary Margaret cuddling the baby dredged up feelings of jealousy that Hannah couldn't ignore. She knew Mary Margaret would be giving a lot of her attention to the baby. It made sense to Hannah – she knew babies required more attention and care. Still, it didn't erase the hurt she felt. She'd had less than a week with her mother and now she had to share her with another child.

How could Emma even think of leaving now?

She couldn't be in that room anymore. She couldn't take everyone talking cheerfully while she felt like screaming and crying and throwing something. "Can I go outside?"

Mary Margaret seemed surprised by the question, and glanced at David, presumably to get his opinion on the matter.

"Zelena is locked up and powerless," he pointed out. "It should be safe enough."

She looked unsure, but nonetheless, Mary Margaret relented. "All right. Stay inside the fence, though."

Hannah gave a half nod before scooting out of the booth and heading for the door. She stepped outside to the patio area, feeling the crisp evening air brush against her face. It was considerably less noisy, and still, as she sat on one of the chairs, Hannah didn't feel better.

What she really wanted to do was to talk to Emma. Problem was Emma wasn't there on the patio with her. She had no idea where her older sister had gone, so Hannah couldn't even guess which direction to take. Vacating her seat, she walked to the white picket fence, glancing down the road. The town was still to the left, but as she glanced right, she could just make out Hook's figure in the distance. She knew he was following Emma, so Hannah realized that if she followed Hook, she'd eventually find Emma.

She spent half a second thinking about Mary Margaret's warning to stay inside the fence before deciding she didn't care and taking off after Hook. She walked as quickly as she could without making a sound, worrying that Hook might drag her back to Granny's if he caught her along the way. She didn't really know him, so she had no idea if it was something he would do, but she couldn't take the chance.

Hannah followed Hook to a small lake – a pond, really – surrounded by trees. She stopped just behind one of the trees, watching Hook approach Emma who was seated on a bench. They were talking, but she couldn't tell what they were saying from where she stood. Slowly, she edged to her left, staying behind the tree line so as not to be seen. Just as she could make out Hook's face, though, he seemed to notice her presence.

"Hannah?" he asked, his confusion evident on his face.

Emma stood and spun around. "Hannah?" she asked in a similar confused tone. "Does Mary Margaret know you're here?"

Hannah took a few steps toward them. "You aren't really leaving Storybrooke, are you?"

Emma felt horrible about the lost look in Hannah's eyes. She hadn't for a moment stopped to consider how a move would affect Hannah. She knew how attached Hannah had become, and honestly, she was really fond of the girl. Still, she wasn't sure she could stay in Storybrooke just because Hannah would miss her. Besides, Hannah still had her parents and David. She'd be okay.

She wasn't going to talk about all that just then, though. "We'll talk about it later," Emma told the girl. "You didn't answer my question though. Does Mary Margaret know you're here?"

Hannah shrugged. "She told me to stay inside the fence at Granny's so… probably not?"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Hannah, Mary Margaret is going to have a heart attack if she realizes you're gone. You need to go back to Granny's right now." She was about escort her baby sister back into town when something caught her eye. She glanced up to spot a column of fire shooting into the sky. "What the hell is that?" she asked slowly.

Beside her, Hook stared at the phenomenon in the sky. "I have no idea."

"I'm going to go check it out," Emma announced. Turning back to Hannah, she put on her best 'big-sister-in-charge' face. "Go back to Granny's, _now_." Not waiting for Hannah to obey, Emma took off toward the disturbance.

Hook barely paid attention to Hannah as he called out, "Wait! Swan!"

The ten-year-old watched Emma and Hook chase off after… well, whatever it was… before deciding to take off after them. She had no interest in returning to Granny's, and she was going to go wherever Emma went, whether or not the woman liked it.

She struggled to keep up – she hadn't realized before just how fast Emma could run – as they cleared the woods and headed for what looked like an old barn. As she moved closer, Hannah watched Emma open the doors, and suddenly they were both sucked inside by some… whirlpool of fire?! Mary Margaret had explained their magical history, but Hannah still hadn't truly believed it. This, what she was watching with her own eyes now, wasn't normal or natural. The two seemed to stop themselves momentarily from being sucked into the tunnel, but then Emma was gone, and soon after that Hook disappeared. Determined not to lose Emma, Hannah took off as fast as she could, pushing herself harder as the whirlpool began to shrink. Without giving a second thought to whether or not it was safe, Hannah closed her eyes and jumped into the whirlpool.

She felt like she was falling… and falling… and falling… until suddenly her body connected with a moderately hard, uneven surface. Groaning, she began to push herself up off what she now saw was the ground, spying Emma and Hook a few feet away. Glancing around, it became clear that they were in a forest, though it didn't look like the woods surrounding Storybrooke – this forest was more lush than home, and it was clearly earlier in the day.

"Where are we?" she asked them, pushing herself to her feet. "This doesn't look like Storybrooke."

Emma's eyes widened the moment she heard the familiar voice and she turned to stare at Hannah in utter disbelief. "I told you to go to Granny's!" she exclaimed, more than a little freaked out by the turn of events. Her next words flew out of her mouth before she could process what she was saying. "Hannah Victoria, what the hell were you thinking?!"

Hannah froze for a moment, wide-eyed, at Emma's tone and use of her middle name. Emma hadn't ever said both names before, and she certainly hadn't ever adopted such a stern tone with her. "I'd rather be with you than at Granny's…" Hannah said slowly, almost in a whine.

Hook brushed himself off as he stood. "It would appear we're back in the Enchanted Forest," he announced, answering Hannah's earlier question. "A better question would be when?"

Taking a deep breath to calm her, Emma noticed a paper attached to one of the tree trunks. Closer inspection revealed it to be a 'Wanted' poster for Snow White. "I think I have an idea," she muttered.

* * *

Emma watched Hannah from a few feet back, giving the girl some space as she tossed rocks into the stream. It had been an eventful afternoon… morning… Emma wasn't really sure what time of day it was in the Enchanted Forest, though she was fairly certain it would be night time back in Storybrooke. They'd managed to find clothes to "borrow" so that she and Hannah didn't attract too much attention, only to have to hide as they came across the Evil Queen. While she and Hook already knew that side of Regina, Hannah hadn't yet made the connection between the Storybrooke Regina and the Evil Queen from the book, and she was having a hard time reconciling the two. Then, they'd managed to interrupt Snow White and Prince Charming's first meeting, a mistake that could have catastrophic consequences for both Emma and Hannah. Since then, their goal had been to unite Snow and Charming so that history might right itself.

Dealing with Regina's alter ego wasn't the only thing Hannah was struggling over. She'd been grumpy and grouchy, arguing over every direction and even resorting to a tantrum worthy of a toddler, not understanding how imperative it was that they proceed with caution and remain under the radar. Emma understood it was a combination of Hannah's youth and inexperience with magic, but she still knew she needed to keep the kid safe, and Hannah was making that increasingly hard to do.

They'd just finished talking to Rumplestiltskin, who had provided an opportunity to fix everything in the form of a ball celebrating the engagement of Prince Charming and Princess Abigail. Emma, Hannah, and Hook were now disguised and dressed in the finest threads to attend the ball, and with an hour or so to spare, Emma had insisted on giving Hannah this opportunity to let out some steam.

As the adults stood there, watching Hannah, the expression on Hook's face was heavy with disapproval.

"She just needs some time," Emma tried to explain. "Magic is new to her, and right now she's stuck in the past, in a different world no less, with the sister she just met and a man she doesn't know."

Hook shook his head in disagreement. "What that child needs is a bloody good spanking."

Her head jerked around in surprise. "Killian!" she exclaimed, unable to believe he'd even suggested it. "She's eleven…"

"Exactly, Swan," Hook said with a nod. "She's more than old enough to know how to follow directions without the defiance and tantrums. If she doesn't start listening, she's going to get herself killed."

Emma shook her head. She agreed with Hook's assessment, but she couldn't accept that Hannah might need more than a stern word and look. "Give her time, Hook. She'll come around."

"See to it she does soon," he said gruffly. "If you don't get that girl under control, Emma, I'm going to do it for you."

* * *

Hannah was a little in awe of all of the women in gorgeous gowns, spinning and gliding around the grand ballroom. She was struggling to maintain her cover – when they'd greeted Princess Abigail's father, King Midas, they'd used aliases. Hook was Prince Charles, Emma was Princess Leia, and Hannah had introduced herself as Princess Mia, after Mia Thermopolis from "The Princess Diaries". As an orphan growing up, she couldn't deny that she'd fantasized on more than once occasion about finding out she was the long lost princess of some tiny country. In the pale pink gown Rumplestiltskin had chosen for her, complete with short, puffy sleeves and several layers of petticoats beneath that made the skirt poof out much like Emma's, and a dainty silver tiara, Hannah certainly felt like a princess.

Hook had led Emma at once to the dance floor, and Hannah had resigned herself to being a wallflower. She didn't mind terribly, though. It was easier than interacting with people and having to pretend to be someone she wasn't. She was sure that sooner or later she'd slip up and screw it up for all of them.

It hadn't been long before Emma and Hook left to help Snow get Charming's ring. Emma had paused to make Hannah promise to stay in the dance and to stay out of the spotlight. The last thing Hannah had wanted to do was to stay in a huge room with complete strangers, trapped in the past in a foreign land, but Emma had refused to even entertain the thought of Hannah joining them in the fight. Hannah had to stay safe, Emma had said. Hannah had begged, pleaded, and even threatened to follow them anyway. Emma's tone as she shot down that idea made it clear she was treading on thin ice.

Hannah was nervous being there alone, but a handful of other kids and teens were milling about, and that made it a little easier being separated from Emma. She had to believe that her sister would succeed and return. Emma would never leave her stranded in the past.

The wait seemed like an eternity to Hannah, but eventually she spied Emma and Hook reentering the ballroom. However, before she could make her way through the crowd, there was a commotion with the Evil Queen and her guards. Hannah stilled, not daring to move as one guard rushed in and accused Emma of helping Snow White escape.

Everything seemed to happen so quickly then. Hannah watched in fear as the Evil Queen's guards grabbed Emma. This couldn't possibly be part of the plan. Their eyes met briefly, and Emma's warning for Hannah not to interfere was clear. Hannah knew she should listen. She'd pushed Emma's buttons over and over again in the brief time they'd been in the Enchanted Forest, and she was sure that had she done the same back in Storybrooke she'd be in a heap of trouble by then. She even felt a little bad for her wretched behavior. However, as the guards began to escort Emma out of the grand room, any intention of following directions flew out the window.

Hannah moved to follow them when a hand wrapped around her arm, holding her in place.

"No, love."

She recognized Hook's voice, and glanced back only briefly to acknowledge him before trying once more to move forward. "They have Emma!" she said urgently, tugging against his grip.

"Going after her will only attract attention and possibly get you hurt. Come with me." Hook began to pull Hannah backward, away from the commotion, but Hannah was making it difficult by using all of her strength to resist. He was trying hard to be gentle – he didn't want to hurt her after all – and he figured giving up any attempt at reasoning and just tossing the child over his shoulder might attract a bit of attention.

It took nearly a minute, but Hook managed to all but drag the struggling girl into an empty passageway. He'd assumed that once he pulled her away from the crowd she'd settle down, but Hannah only struggled harder. He wasn't going to be able to keep her safe and save Emma if she didn't stop fighting him. He quickly tugged her closer, catching her off guard, which gave him the chance to drop her arm and wrap his left arm around her torso, which bent her slightly at the waist. Taking care not to scratch or poke the child with his hook, he quickly brought his hand down hard on her backside. Because of the padding provided by the petticoats beneath her dress, he was sure it wouldn't hurt _that_ much, but he really only needed to get her attention.

The sound that emitted from her lips, which could only be described as a squeal, confirmed that he'd done just that.

Taking advantage of her surprise, Hook swung Hannah around so that she was facing him, grabbing a hold of her arm once more. He watched a tear roll down her cheek, though he was sure it was from Emma's arrest and not the well-deserved swat he'd just delivered. " _Stop fighting me_ ," he said sternly. "I promised your sister I would do everything in my power to keep you safe, no matter what happened, and I can't do that if you're running off half-cocked after her. That woman is not the Regina you met in Storybrooke. She is the Evil Queen, and she more than earned the name. If she finds out who you are, you'll only be in more danger."

Two more tears spilled down Hannah's cheeks. "I can't lose Emma!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking.

Softening a bit, Hook let go of Hannah and reached out to wipe the tears from her cheeks. He was relieved when she didn't immediately try to run off again. "Come now, love," he said gently. "Do you really think I'd let anything happen to your sister? We're going to save her, but for that to happen, I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?"

Hannah didn't trust her voice, so she responded with a nod.


	10. Chapter 10

As she stood in the middle of the dimly-lit room, she glanced around, both her body and soul felt like lead. Hook had kept his word, and they had rescued Emma – or rather, they'd found Emma after she'd rescued herself and another woman. However, her time in the Enchanted Forest since then hadn't been any easier than before the ball. Hannah had been forced to watch her own mother "die". Even hours later, after discovering that Mary Margaret – no, Snow White – was actually alive, Hannah still hadn't felt better. She'd wanted to hug her mother, but she'd seen the surprise and confusion on Snow's face as Emma embraced her, and remembered with a sense of despair that this woman had no idea who she was.

After that, they'd had to follow Charming and Snow to ensure they were back on track. Only after she was convinced that all was right again did Emma announce it was time to return to Rumplestiltskin. Hannah had hoped that their return to Storybrooke would be quick, but her hopes were dashed when Rumple announced that it was up to Emma to reopen their portal. Hannah was already over the Enchanted Forest at this point and running on empty as sleep and her appetite had both been elusive, so when Rumple magically sent them to this new room with no obvious way out, Hannah lost it.

She put her hands on the closest object – a heavy wooden table – and shoved with all her might. To the surprise of everyone in the room, the table tilted and landed on its side with a loud crash.

"Hannah!" Emma exclaimed, grabbing the girl's arm and jerking her back as the kid reached for another object. "Don't touch _anything_ in here. You heard Rumplestiltskin. The things in this room are too much for even him to handle."

"I don't care," Hannah replied grumpily. "I want to go _home_!"

Emma sighed. "I know. So do I." She glanced at Hook. "Neal was right," she said softly with a hint of a sad smile.

Hook watched her curiously. "About what?"

"You don't have a home until you just _miss it_. Being with my parents these past few days, but not really being _with_ them, I've never missed them more." She stared at Hook, finally admitting the truth to both of them. "Storybrooke is my home."

Hannah was too tired to rejoice over Emma's proclamation. As Hook smiled at Emma, she managed to wrench herself free of Emma's grip. She was about to release her frustration on another inanimate object when something caught her eye. Glancing down, she stared at the wand in Emma's hand – a wand that was now glowing.

"I'd say you've got your magic back," she heard Hook say. "Now, shall we go?"

Emma paused, staring at the wand in wonder before stepping forward, closing her eyes, and concentrating. Several long seconds later, a portal appeared.

Hook picked up the unconscious woman Emma had rescued before – Hannah believed her name was Marian – and after a quick praise to Emma, jumped into the portal.

"Go!" Emma told Hannah, pushing her forward gently. Hannah didn't need to be told twice, though, and ran straight for the portal.

For the second time in as many days, she felt like she was falling – her stomach wasn't appreciating the increasing velocity with which she moved – until suddenly her body collided with the dirt-covered ground inside the barn. As she pushed herself to her knees, Emma landed beside her.

Gathering her bearings, Emma turned her attention to Hannah. "Are you okay?"

Hannah was tired and a bit sore, but she was surprised she wasn't battered and bruised. "I'm okay," she mumbled.

Emma pulled herself to her feet before reaching down to help Hannah. "Come on." She pulled the child to her feet then turned to Hook. "Could you help her out so she doesn't freak?" she asked, nodding to Marian.

"Sure, love. Where are you going?"

Still holding onto Hannah's hand, Emma smiled. "There are some people we really need to see."

* * *

"No," Hannah said, digging her feet in as she and Emma reached Granny's. "I don't want to go in there."

Emma stopped to look down at Hannah. "Why not?"

Emma was probably the one person who would understand, but Hannah didn't have the energy to have that conversation. "I just don't."

"I don't know how much time has passed here, but considering it's now dark, I'm sure someone has noticed your absence. Are you worried about being in trouble?"

That was certainly one of her concerns, but she shrugged noncommittally.

Sighing, Emma folded her arms over her chest. "All right," she agreed. "I won't drag you in there, but you had better not set even one foot outside that fence, Hannah."

"I won't," Hannah agreed, grateful for the reprieve.

"I mean it," Emma said sternly. "If you run off, I will find you. I will _always_ find you."

Hannah couldn't help but smile a little at the reference to Mary Margaret and David. "I know," Hannah assured her. "I won't go anywhere."

Emma pulled Hannah into a brief hug before heading into Granny's.

Now alone in the crisp spring air, Hannah found herself staring at the door almost longingly. Despite the ordeal she'd just been through, how much she'd wanted to return to Storybrooke, and the urge to experience one of Mary Margaret's hugs that just made her feel warm and fuzzy inside, she was still a jumble of emotions. She couldn't tell exactly how much time had passed either, but maybe Emma was wrong and no one had noticed. She didn't know how she felt about that.

She was debating whether to go in or curl up on one of the chairs when she heard an unexpected voice behind her.

"Hannah…?"

Hannah spun around to find Whale standing just outside the gate. He looked different to her without his lab coat or tie and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "W-what are you doing here?" she asked in surprise. She certainly didn't remember seeing him at Granny's beforehand, and it wasn't as if the diner was all that big.

"David called when he discovered you were missing," Whale explained, quickly closing the distance between them and pulling Hannah into an unexpected but welcome hug. "I've been looking for you for nearly an hour. Where have you been?"

Well that wasn't going to go over well. Maybe she could smooth it over a bit. "What do you mean?" she asked, playing innocent. "I've been here the whole time. Well, I mean, I went exploring next door for a few minutes, but…"

Whale pulled back and fixed Hannah with a stern look. "No. Don't you dare start lying to me, Hannah. You weren't here in front of Granny's and you weren't next door. Where were you?"

It didn't feel particularly good having her father cross with her. "I was with Emma," she admitted softly, though she left out the most important detail that they'd gotten sucked into Zelena's time portal and spent a couple of days in the past in the Enchanted Forest. "I didn't think anyone would notice I was gone."

He narrowed his eyes. She seemed to be telling the truth, and yet he could tell it wasn't the whole story. "David couldn't get in touch with Emma, either. Why wouldn't Emma just call David and let him know you were with her?"

Hannah shrugged slightly and bit her lower lip. "Bad reception?"

Did she really think she was fooling him? "You know what? If you don't want to tell me what's going on, that's fine. Perhaps you'll tell Mary Margaret instead." Turning her around gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders from behind and began to guide her toward the door.

She dug her feet in the best she could, which was hard with the solid pavement. "No, wait!" she objected. "I'm not ready to go in yet…"

Whale let go of her shoulders and walked around her so he could see her face. "Do you understand that there are people in that diner who have been concerned about you?" he asked her. "Mary Margaret and David couldn't get in touch with Emma, and you were nowhere to be found… You had us _really_ worried, Hannah. You may not want to admit to whatever you were doing, but the other people inside there deserve to know you're okay, and your mother especially deserves an explanation for your absence." Placing one hand on her back this time, Whale gently propelled Hannah forward.

Feeling rather guilty about making anyone worry, Hannah dropped her fight and allowed her dad to guide her inside. She spotted her family before they spotted her – Emma was just sitting down beside Henry and across from Mary Margaret, who was holding the baby, in a booth. David stood beside Mary Margaret. It appeared that Henry had his book out.

None of them seemed particularly worried to her, though. In fact, they seemed like a perfect little family – one that had formed long before she ever showed up in Storybrooke. The jealousy formed a thick clump in the pit of her stomach. "They don't look too concerned," she muttered as she tried to turn back toward the door.

"Hannah…" Whale warned, giving her an extra nudge.

He hadn't thought he'd spoken that loud, but Mary Margaret's head turned at that moment and she finally noticed Hannah.

"Hannah!" she exclaimed, relief plastered all over her face. Standing, she carefully handed the baby to David before crossing the room in record time and pulling Hannah into a tight hug. "We were so worried!" she told Hannah, refusing to let the child go. "I told you to stay inside the fence! Where were you?"

Hannah hesitated. Was Emma going to tell them about being pulled into the past, or would that remain a secret? If she wasn't going to tell, Hannah certainly didn't want to, and while her attempt at a cover story had failed with her dad, maybe Mary Margaret would believe it.

"I'm sorry I worried you," Hannah apologized. "I was just exploring next door and I lost track of time."

" _Hannah Victoria._ "

Crap. She'd assumed her father would have left already, but from the sound of his voice he was right behind her and less than pleased. Hannah felt Mary Margaret loosen her hold on her and watched as her mother turned to look at her father who was now at their side. "Victor," she said as a greeting. "Were you the one who found Hannah?"

Whale nodded. "I did. I found her right outside, but I don't know where she was before that, though she claims she was with Emma." He turned his attention to Hannah, watching her fidget at what he hoped was a look of serious displeasure on his face. "I _do_ know that she wasn't anywhere near Granny's before I found her. Lying to your mom is just as unacceptable as lying to me, young lady," he told her.

Not only had she disobeyed her, but now Hannah was lying about it? There was definitely a conversation to be had. "Thank you, Victor."

He gave a brief nod. "You're welcome. I'm sure that you'll want to keep her close tonight, but would you mind if I spent some time with her tomorrow? I was thinking I'd pick her up around lunchtime and have her back to you by dinner."

"What a wonderful idea!" insisted Mary Margaret with a smile. She was glad to see Whale taking an interest in developing a relationship with Hannah. From what she'd seen at the hospital, he was good with her, and having a positive relationship with her father was important. Mary Margaret knew that David cared about Hannah, and that was another relationship that she hoped would grow over time, but Hannah still needed her father. She glanced down at Hannah, wanting the eleven-year-old's opinion on the matter. "What do you think? Are you up for spending some time with your dad tomorrow afternoon?"

She'd had no intention of admitting as much to anyone, but Hannah had been secretly hoping she'd have a chance to get to know Whale a little better. He was her biological father, after all, and he didn't seem like a complete creep. Maybe he was okay. "I'd like that," Hannah replied in a soft voice.

"Well, then I will see you tomorrow." Leaning forward, Whale gently placed his hand on the back of Hannah's head before kissing her forehead. After a moment he pulled back and furrowed his brow seriously. "No more lies," he told her.

Hannah nodded affirmatively. "Okay," she murmured. She watched him walk out the door before her attention was pulled back to Mary Margaret, who now looked decidedly less happy than she had when she'd first noticed Hannah. Hannah deflated a bit at the stern stare being directed her way. "I'm sorry…" she offered.

"We're going to go sit down with the others, and you're going to answer some questions for me… truthfully."

She didn't give Hannah a chance to object, taking hold of the girl's hand and leading her over to the booth. Mary Margaret slid in first, happily taking the baby back from David, before patting the space beside her. "Have a seat."

Mary Margaret's tone made it clear that the directive wasn't up for debate, and although Hannah didn't particularly want to sit and submit to what she imagined would be an interrogation of sorts, she supposed she had little choice with both Emma and David there. Reluctantly, she sat down next to Mary Margaret.

"Were you really with Emma?" Mary Margaret asked at once.

Hannah was about to respond when Emma beat her to it. "Yeah, Mom. Hannah was with me."

"So then why try to lie about it?" the young mother pressed. "You knew you weren't supposed to leave the patio outside Granny's, but surely you also knew that being with your sister wouldn't be as big of a deal as if you'd just gone off on your own." Mary Margaret noticed out of the corner of her eye that David seemed upset over the revelation that Hannah had been with Emma (who seemed like she wanted to say something else), but she couldn't for the life of her think of a reason why.

Before she had too much time to ponder the shift in his demeanor, though, David offered an explanation. "I'm guessing it's because Emma wasn't _in_ Storybrooke."

"Wait, what do you mean Emma wasn't in Storybrooke? They weren't gone long enough to have really gone anywhere…"

Emma knew she was about to tell on her sister, and she could only imagine how upset Mary Margaret would be over the news, but David already knew so it was just a matter of time anyway. Besides, she'd been frustrated with Hannah over the girl's lack of regard for her own safety, and surely Mary Margaret could encourage her not to take any more unnecessary risks. "Hook and I saw the light in the sky and went to go check it out. I told Hannah to go back to Granny's," she explained, looking pointedly at her little sister, pleased to see the girl seem abashed at the reminder, "but she clearly didn't listen. When Hook and I got there, we were sucked into Zelena's time portal and transported back to the Enchanted Forest. Hannah jumped in after us."

Mary Margaret's eyes grew wide. "You were in the Enchanted Forest?" she repeated, sure she'd misheard Emma. "When…" She trailed off as Emma's last sentence registered with her, and she turned to give Hannah an incredulous look. _"You deliberately jumped into a time portal?"_

This wasn't going well at all. "I didn't know it was a time portal…" Hannah said softly in her defense.

Although she nodded, Mary Margaret's expression didn't soften. "I can believe that, but you can't possibly tell me you didn't realize it could be dangerous jumping in after your sister."

Hannah pouted a little. "You're not scolding Emma for going through the time portal."

The young mother was unmoved by the way Hannah had jutted out her lower lip just a bit. "First of all, Emma is a grown woman. Second, unless I'm missing part of the story, Emma wasn't _trying_ to go through the portal." Mary Margaret had to admit that adult or not, she'd have a few choice words for Emma if she thought her eldest had deliberately jumped head-first into danger. "Third, I distinctly remember telling you to stay inside the fence."

Miserably, Hannah slouched down in the booth. It wasn't the first time she'd been scolded by her mother, but it was the first time Mary Margaret had been so clearly upset with her, and Hannah didn't like the feeling. She watched as Mary Margaret briefly looked down to smile at the baby in her arms, and another wave of jealousy ripped through her. Not trusting her voice, Hannah stared at the table, blinking back the moisture growing in her eyes.

She felt an arm wrap around her shoulders as a hand rubbed her arm. Moments later, Mary Margaret pressed a kiss to her head. "We'll talk more at home later, but I'm so glad you're okay."

The festivities carried on another hour, but Hannah had zoned out for most of that time. She did hear them pronounce that the baby was "Prince Neal" and everyone seemed moved by the name, although it wasn't one that Hannah recognized. She supposed it was part of the expansive history of Storybrooke that didn't include her.

The few moments she wasn't oblivious to everyone in the room, Hannah had managed to excuse herself to the bathroom so she could get away from the overwhelming joy that made her want to cry. It had gotten to the point where Mary Margaret had pressed the back of her hand to Hannah's forehead, asking if the child felt ill. Hannah made sure not to spend more than 5 minutes at a time in the restrooms, but the brief breaks gave her a chance to feel like she could breathe and let out the emotions that were building up inside. She could let the tears fall and then wash her face with cool water before returning to the party. If anyone noticed the redness in her eyes, they didn't mention it.

As people slowly began to leave, Mary Margaret took a good look at Hannah and felt bad. The girl was clearly exhausted and miserable, and in the excitement of the evening, she hadn't really noticed. She knew she needed to talk to Hannah at home about the evening's events, but she also needed to find out what was really going on.

"Neal finally has a name, and we're staying in Storybrooke – I think we should celebrate with some ice cream," Henry announced.

Before anyone could possibly object, Mary Margaret voiced her agreement. "I think that's a great idea," she said. "You guys go ahead. Hannah and I could use a few minutes alone to talk, and you can bring us back something." She turned to Hannah. "What kind of ice cream would you like, sweetie?" At first, Hannah didn't respond. Frowning, Mary Margaret gently squeezed Hannah's shoulder. "Hannah?"

The girl jumped slightly and turned her head towards her mother. "Huh?"

Mary Margaret's concern was only growing, but she figured they could talk about that at home. "The others are going to go pick up some ice cream. What would you like?"

She hadn't eaten anything at Granny's, and she'd barely eaten while in the Enchanted Forest, but Hannah didn't have much of an appetite. "I'm not hungry," she murmured, returning her gaze to the table.

Even after only knowing Hannah for a short period of time, Mary Margaret could tell this was highly out of character for her. Hannah _loved_ sweets, and had readily accepted every opportunity to indulge. "We could put it in the freezer for later, then," she replied. She waited for a response, but Hannah didn't acknowledge the offer. Turning back to the rest of her family, Mary Margaret put on a smile. "Surprise us."


	11. Chapter 11

Ten minutes later, Mary Margaret followed Hannah into the loft. The child hadn't said a word since they'd left Granny's, even as Mary Margaret had tried to engage her in a conversation. Mary Margaret knew she needed to talk to Hannah about the time portal and leaving Granny's in the first place, and there had to be some sort of consequence for that behavior, but before she could address any of that, she needed to get Hannah to open up.

She watched the girl head straight for the stairs that would take her up to the second bedroom. "Come here, Hannah."

Hannah paused, though she didn't turn around or move closer to Mary Margaret. "I'm tired," she said quickly. "I just want to go to bed."

"Let's talk first, sweetie. Come sit with me."

Shaking her head, Hannah put one foot on the first step. "I don't want to talk tonight. I just want to go to bed."

She'd taken two steps when a hand wrapped around her wrist. She turned to stare at Mary Margaret in shock, having been convinced that her mother would back down and let her go to bed.

"No," Mary Margaret said firmly. "I am not letting you go to bed when you're clearly upset, and you know we have some things we need to discuss anyway. We are going to go sit on the sofa and talk."

Talking was the last thing she wanted to do, but Hannah allowed Mary Margaret to lead her over to the sofa. She figured the woman could make her sit there, but she couldn't actually make her talk. Hannah immediately claimed one end of the sofa, pulling her feet up and hugging her knees to her chest. She watched Mary Margaret sit at the opposite end, shifting so that she was completely facing Hannah.

Hannah was determined to force Mary Margaret to make the first move – she wasn't going to talk and that was that – but the woman seemed to be studying her intently and it unnerved Hannah. She tried to ignore it, to ignore _her_ , but those warm eyes, so full of concern, were slowly chipping away at her defenses. "What?" she demanded, unable to take it any longer.

"I should have paid closer attention back at Granny's," Mary Margaret admitted, her voice heavy with regret. "I'm so sorry that I didn't, Hannah. I can see now how upset you are. Please talk to me."

"I'm sorry I disobeyed you," Hannah offered, staring at her knees.

Mary Margaret promptly shook her head. "It's more than that," she insisted. "I know you aren't just upset over a scolding."

It wasn't just the scolding, though Hannah had to admit that it affected her more now that Neal had been born than it would have before. It hurt, having that disappointed tone directed at her. She didn't know how to tell Mary Margaret everything that she was feeling, though. What if she thought it was dumb? What if she thought Hannah was just being a big baby?

"Hannah…" murmured Mary Margaret.

"I don't belong here," she whispered quickly before she lost the courage.

Mary Margaret's eyes widened drastically. "What on earth are you talking about?" she demanded.

"You already have a family here – you and David," explained Hannah in a strained voice. "You have Emma and Henry and Neal, and they all belong to both of you. You're all from the Enchanted Forest and you're all royalty. I'm from this world and the illegitimate result of an affair you never would have had if you hadn't been cursed. I don't belong. I'm just a mistake that came back to bite you in the butt."

Before Hannah could react, Mary Margaret was inches away from her and had Hannah's face cradled in her hands. "Hannah Victoria, you are _not_ a mistake," she said forcefully, shocked over Hannah's revelation and determined to dispel those vile thoughts from her mind. "From the _moment_ I found out I was pregnant with you, I wanted you. I have always wanted you. I know that David isn't your biological father, but trust me when I tell you that he cares about you just as much as he does Emma and Neal. David, Emma, Neal, and Henry all want you here. You are every bit a part of this family." She watched several tears spill down Hannah's cheeks, and used the pads of her thumbs to brush them away. "You belong here, Hannah."

Hannah shook her head softly. "They hardly know me."

Mary Margaret released Hannah's face, but she stayed where she was, placing one hand over Hannah's. "It doesn't change the fact that we all love you. Hannah, you're a part of this family, forever."

The eleven-year-old mulled that over in her head. She wanted to believe Mary Margaret, but her experiences over the past six years made it hard for her to trust. "Even though I made you mad today?" she asked, her voice skeptical.

"Hannah, you didn't make me mad. You _scared_ me. David went out to check on you and discovered you were missing. Although Zelena was no longer a threat, we had no idea what had happened to you or if you were all right. Then, I find out after the fact that you were in the Enchanted Forest for two days because you jumped into a giant, swirling vortex after your big sister? Just the thought of what could have happened to you in the past…" Mary Margaret paused to take a steadying breath. "I'll admit that I was upset – and disappointed in your behavior – but I was never angry at you, sweetie. No matter what you do, though, I am always going to love you."

"I'm really sorry for scaring you," Hannah said in a small voice.

Mary Margaret gently squeezed Hannah's hand. "I appreciate the apology. Let's talk about everything that happened today."

Hannah frowned. That was the last thing she wanted to do. "I think I'd rather we skip the talk and you just punish me."

"Oh, we'll get to consequences in a couple of minutes," Mary Margaret assured her, watching her daughter's frown deepen. "However, I need to understand why everything happened. Let's start with Granny's. Did you want to go outside so you could follow Emma?"

It occurred to her that Mary Margaret probably thought she'd never intended to stay inside the fence. "No. I just wanted some fresh air. I felt… I don't know."

Mary Margaret felt a shred of relief that Hannah had at least initially intended to follow directions. She had to admit she would have been more upset had she learned that Hannah had planned to leave the fenced area all along. "You felt how, Hannah?" she prodded.

"Angry…" Hannah admitted. "Sad… I wanted to scream and cry and break something and I felt like I couldn't breathe in there."

"You've become rather close to Emma," observed Mary Margaret. "Were you worried about her leaving Storybrooke?"

"Yeah."

"Is that the only reason you were feeling angry and sad?"

Hannah thought back to how she'd felt when she watched Mary Margaret with Neal. Yes, she was worried that Mary Margaret wouldn't have time for her or would decide she was too much of a burden, but it was more than that. When she watched her mother with Neal, Hannah was painfully reminded of the fact that the chance to be raised by her mother had been stolen from her shortly after birth. Neal would have all of these experiences with Mary Margaret that Hannah never would. She'd had many of those experiences with her adopted parents, and Hannah truly loved them, but it still hurt.

She didn't know that she could admit any of this to Mary Margaret, though, so Hannah shrugged her shoulders.

"You know," Mary Margaret said, "if you don't tell me, I can't do anything to help you feel better."

Hannah shook her head. "It's stupid."

"Try me."

Hannah shook her head again. She just couldn't bring herself to admit that she was jealous over an infant.

"All right," Mary Margaret relented. "I won't push. Just know that if and when you ever decide to share those feelings, I'll be here to listen."

She was relieved that Mary Margaret was giving her that small amount of space. "Thank you."

Mary Margaret offered a smile. "You're welcome. So, you didn't originally intend to follow Emma, but eventually you did. Why didn't you listen to Emma when she told you to go back to Granny's?"

"I didn't want to be at Granny's," Hannah said, opening up a little. She hoped the revelation wouldn't hurt Mary Margaret's feelings. "I wanted to talk to Emma. She… she always seems to understand how I'm feeling, sometimes when even I don't understand. I don't know how. Anyway, I felt like she was just shrugging me off, and I felt hurt, so I decided I was going to follow her until she had to talk to me."

She wished Hannah felt that close to her, but Mary Margaret was glad that Hannah had found at least one person she could talk to. Hopefully, over time Hannah would feel that way about Mary Margaret, too. "Can I assume that's also the reason you jumped into the portal after Emma?" She watched Hannah nod. "I understand that you didn't know it was a time portal, but you're a smart girl and you had to have known it probably wasn't safe to go near it. Wanting to be with your sister is not an acceptable reason to jump head-first into an unknown situation and put your life in danger, Hannah."

Hannah had expected more scolding, but she appreciated that Mary Margaret was no longer wearing her 'scary mom' face. "I didn't think about it like that."

"I figured as much. Why didn't you go with Emma to Granny's when you returned to Storybrooke?"

"I wasn't ready to go inside. I was on the patio, though. Emma practically dragged me there."

"And that's where your father found you?"

Hannah nodded. "He wouldn't let me stay outside."

Mary Margaret had to admit that from what she'd seen so far, Whale was taking this dad thing really well. He was interested in getting to know Hannah, and apparently he wasn't going to be a pushover. Thinking of Whale reminded Mary Margaret of Hannah's fibs. "When I asked you where you'd been, why did you lie?"

Hannah lowered her gaze to her knees. "I figured you'd be mad if you knew the truth."

"This won't be the last time you mess up, Hannah. You're going to make mistakes, and I'm here to help you through them, but I need you to understand that I will _always_ be less upset if you're honest with me."

"Okay," Hannah agreed. A somewhat amusing thought came to mind, and she shyly tilted her head at Mary Margaret, hoping her mother wouldn't be upset by the small attempt at a bit of levity. "I won't turn into wood like Pinocchio if I lie, will I?"

The corners of Mary Margaret's mouth twitched in amusement. The conversation had been heavy for the both of them, and the realization that Hannah felt comfortable enough to make even a small joke warmed her heart. "No. You won't turn to wood." It was the opportune time to bridge over to expectations and consequences, and after a few seconds her expression grew serious, stirring up butterflies in Hannah's stomach. "I can guarantee you'll earn a spanking if you lie, though."

Hannah bit her lip. She hadn't really pondered how Mary Margaret would choose to punish her, but she was beginning to wonder if Mary Margaret had just inadvertently told her what it would be for that day's events. She'd been used as a punching bag recently and Mr. Flint liked to use whatever he had handy – his fist, a belt, once even a power cord, but she couldn't recall receiving a regular spanking since preschool. While Hook had swatted her in back in the Enchanted Forest, it had only been once, and with the exception of the Flints, her foster parents had tended to shy away from any sort of physical punishment. The thought left her nervous. She couldn't imagine Mary Margaret doing what the Flints had done, but still…

"Is that… I mean, are you…?" Hannah couldn't quite get the words out.

"I've thought about this a lot," admitted Mary Margaret, choosing her words carefully. She wasn't sure how Hannah would react. "I know you were in an awful situation before you came here where the people you should have been able to trust hurt you. I will never forgive myself for the fact that you had to spend even one second with them. The best thing I can do now is to raise you from this point forward, the way I would have done so if I'd had you all along, and I absolutely would have given you a spanking if you'd done something dangerous."

She couldn't deny that she was scared, but even if Mary Margaret were to hit her like the Flints had, she had also shown an overwhelming amount of love in the short amount of time Hannah had known her, and Hannah felt horrible that she'd worried and disappointed the woman. If this would wipe the slate clean so Mary Margaret was no longer upset, Hannah supposed it was worth the risk. "Okay," she whispered.

She'd expected much more resistance; she could only remember being spanked twice as a child and she'd thrown an outright fit over it both times. Mary Margaret wasn't sure whether to be relieved or concerned. Part of her wanted to talk further, but she had a feeling that Hannah would much rather get the whole thing over with. Scooting over just a bit, she gently patted her right thigh. "Come on over here," she said, her tone gentle.

Hannah slowly scooted off the sofa and moved to stand at Mary Margaret's side. She allowed her mother to guide her over her lap, her torso resting comfortably on the sofa. Despite the small comfort, she felt tense, and her chest tightened involuntarily.

Watching Hannah grow rigid, Mary Margaret immediately began to rub the girl's back. The poor child was clearly terrified. She wondered if she should just abandon this plan and come up with another consequence. She could ground Hannah for a week or two, but she wasn't exactly sure what she'd be grounding the child _from_ at this point. She didn't have a TV or any other technology that could be used for entertainment purposes – Mary Margaret figured she'd have to fix that soon – and Hannah hadn't started school yet so she had no friends other than Henry. Mary Margaret couldn't very well restrict Hannah from spending time with Henry, as he was at the loft half of the time and he was _family_. Besides, she'd admitted to Hannah that this would have been the automatic consequence for such a situation had the child grown up in Storybrooke, and Mary Margaret couldn't walk back on that. She had a feeling that would be even more damaging to their already delicate relationship. No, she needed to do what she'd said she'd do, and prove to Hannah that she wasn't going to _hurt_ her. "Deep breaths, Hannah," she murmured, her hand moving in gentle circles. "You're safe."

Having expected Mary Margaret to immediately begin swatting her, Hannah was surprised by the gesture. Closing her eyes, she worked on taking deep breaths as she'd been told, slowly feeling some of the tension melt away after a few moments.

"Much better," Mary Margaret praised as she felt Hannah relax a little. "I know you're anxious. This will all be over in a minute." Wrapping her left arm around Hannah's waist, both to keep her in place and provide comfort, Mary Margaret brought her hand down sharply on Hannah's bottom.

"Oh!" Hannah squeaked out. It wasn't the same as when Mr. Flint had hit her, but it still stung. At the second swat, Hannah pressed her lips together, determined not to make a fuss. She tried to focus on counting the swats in her head, figuring it would give her something else to focus on other than the growing sting in her posterior. The third swat elicited a soft whimper, and by the sixth swat, Hannah could feel the tears moistening her face.

After the tenth swat, Mary Margaret paused. Hannah was just barely holding herself together – she'd fought not to cry outright. It had always angered Mr. Flint when she made a big fuss, and he'd threaten to give her something to really cry about. Hannah couldn't understand why her mother had stopped, though. Was it over?

Mary Margaret rested her hand on Hannah's leg. "Tell me why you're getting a spanking, Hannah," she said softly.

Nope. Clearly not over. Hannah really didn't want to talk – she knew she'd start crying if she tried. She wondered if Mary Margaret would just finish things up if Hannah lay there silently.

After several long moments, she heard Mary Margaret's voice again, though this time it was more firm. "Hannah."

Hannah sniffled and willed herself not to cry. "I d-disobeyed you by leaving Granny's a-a-and I j-jumped into a portal aft-t-ter Emma and I l-l-lied t-to you about where I'd b-b-been."

"It is _not_ okay to run off like that, Hannah Victoria. I _need_ to know where you are at _all_ times," Mary Margaret said firmly, punctuating certain words with sharp swats. She heard Hannah's breath hitch as the child began to openly cry and was half tempted to end the spanking right then and there. However, she knew she needed to finish making her point. It wouldn't help Hannah to stop prematurely. "You do _not_ jump into unknown portals after your sister and you do _not_ put yourself in _dangerous_ situations. And, no matter what has happened, I expect you to _always tell_ the _truth_. Do you understand me?"

"Yes!" Hannah choked out, nodding her head enthusiastically. "I'm so sorry…!"

Mary Margaret landed one more swat before stopping. At once she lifted Hannah and pulled her into her arms, holding the crying child close as she perched gingerly on Mary Margaret's lap. Hannah was still professing tearful apologies, but Mary Margaret just rocked gently from side to side, rubbing Hannah's back.

"Shhh," Mary Margaret murmured after a minute, when Hannah hadn't calmed at all. "You're okay. It's over now."

"I'm s-s-sorry…" Hannah sobbed into Mary Margaret's shirt.

"I know you are, sweetie. You don't need to apologize any more, okay? It's all over, and you're forgiven."

Hannah couldn't get a handle on her emotions. Her backside stung quite a bit, but honestly it paled in comparison to the pain she'd felt every time Mr. Flint had gotten his hands on her. Unlike at the Flints, however, Hannah felt incredibly _guilty_ for having worried and disappointed Mary Margaret. Even though Mary Margaret insisted that she was forgiven, and that it was over, Hannah didn't completely believe it. Nothing had ever really been "over" or "forgiven" in her experience.

She just couldn't stop the tears.

"You know," Mary Margaret said softly as she continued to soothe her daughter, "I was a bit of a brat as a child. I was very spoiled, an only child, and my parents never did more than scold me. There was a woman who worked in the castle who was very close to our family, and who became a sort of mother figure to me after my own mother died. Her name was Johanna. I was only spanked twice as a child, and both times were at Johanna's hand."

Hannah was surprised by the unexpected peek into her mother's childhood. She sniffled, trying to get control of her tears so she could hear better. "I-I thought you had a stepmother… Regina…"

"Regina is my stepmother," agreed Mary Margaret. "I'm sure there were times she would have liked to have taken me in hand, but she wouldn't have dared upset my father, and she tended to avoid me when she could anyway. She blamed me for the death of her true love, and it was painful for her to be around me."

That was interesting, Hannah thought. She was torn between asking about Regina and asking about Johanna. Johanna won out. "J-Johanna d-d-didn't mind upsetting your d-dad?"

Mary Margaret shook her head, holding back a sigh of relief as Hannah's tears seemed to slow. "No. At least, it didn't seem like she did. The first time it happened, I'd left the castle to explore the surrounding forests without telling anyone I was going. I was just a little older than you, and it was easy to get lost in the woods. Johanna found me, and after hugging me tightly, she promptly found a tree stump, sat down, and tugged me across her lap." She chuckled at the memory. "I kicked and screamed like she was murdering me."

"What d-did your d-d-dad say?"

"He was away on a trip at the time. I told Johanna afterward that I was going to tell him, thinking I'd get her in trouble for daring to punish me. Johanna beat me to it, though, and though my father didn't punish me, of course, he did scold me for not telling anyone where I was going and not bringing someone with me. I was scandalized that he hadn't taken my side."

Hannah pulled back and wiped the moisture from her eyes. She offered her mother a small smile as she wordlessly handed Hannah a tissue. "Thank you," she said before blowing her nose. "What about the other time?

Mary Margaret smiled ruefully. "I was having a bad day and I took it out on one of the servants. Johanna didn't approve." Reaching out, she tucked a few strands of hair behind Hannah's ear. "How are you feeling?"

The sting was beginning to fade, just a bit, but she now had other discomforts. "My head hurts," she admitted softly, "and my eyes sting."

"That's not a surprise. If I cry a lot, I feel that way too. I've got something that will help. Let's go splash some cool water on your face first."

Five minutes later, Hannah was curled up on her side on the sofa, her head resting on a pillow on top of Mary Margaret's thigh. Her eyes were closed and covered by a cool, wet washcloth. She sighed when she felt fingers combing through her hair.

"How does that feel?"

"Better," Hannah murmured, feeling some of the stress and tension from the past few days melt away. The fingers continued to lightly comb through her hair, leaving Hannah feeling increasingly sleepy.

A key turned in the door lock not long after, catching Hannah's attention. She removed the washcloth from her face and tried to blink away the drowsiness as the door opened and the others filed in. David was balancing Neal and his diaper bag, Emma had an arm draped across Henry's shoulders, and Henry carried a plastic bag that Hannah suspected held ice cream.

"Neal fell asleep on the ride home," David told Mary Margaret as he gingerly set the bundled baby in the cradle.

Henry set the bag on the counter, and Emma immediately began to withdraw pints. "We couldn't decide on which flavor to get for each of you, so we picked up several," said Emma. "Cherry vanilla, rocky road, chocolate chip cookie dough, cookies and cream, and regular vanilla…"

"Thank you!" Mary Margaret said gratefully, offering David a smile as he leaned down to kiss her.

Glancing at Hannah, David couldn't suppress a chuckle. "It looks like someone's tired." He carefully perched himself on the edge of the coffee table so he could better see Hannah. Her blotchy face and red, puffy eyes didn't escape his notice. He and Mary Margaret hadn't had a chance to really discuss the matter privately, but he was fairly certain he knew what had transpired in the half hour they'd been getting ice cream. Not that he disagreed one bit – if he was correct in his assumption, he would have done the same had it been up to him – but he couldn't help feeling bad for the kid. She seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, and he only hoped that that weight would start to decrease now that Hannah had a safe, loving home with people who cared about her. "I didn't get a chance to tell you earlier, but I'm really glad you're safe, Hannah. We were all so worried when we realized you were gone."

Hearing David say that he'd been worried made her feel bad. "I'm sorry about that," Hannah offered in a soft, sleep-laden voice.

"Just don't scare us like that again," he said, though his smile softened his words as he reached out to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "So, do you think you're awake enough for ice cream, or would you rather wait until tomorrow?"

Ice cream sounded yummy, and she'd half expected someone to say she couldn't have any that night because of how horribly she'd behaved so the offer was a pleasant surprise, but honestly Hannah wasn't sure she had the will to drag herself off the sofa. She was far too comfortable where she was. "I dunno."

"Hmm," mused Mary Margaret. "You look like you're about ready to pass out. Perhaps it's time for someone to head on up to bed?"

Hannah tilted her head so she could see her mother. "Do I have to?" she asked in a small voice, hoping Mary Margaret would relent and let her stay where she was.

The mother gazed down at her middle child, resting her hand on Hannah's head. "No. You don't have to go to bed just yet, but I do want you to go take a bath or a shower and get your pajamas on."

That still required getting up off the sofa, something Hannah wasn't keen on doing just yet, but she'd take that over having to actually go to bed. "And then I can lie down here again?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "And then you can lie down here again."


	12. Chapter 12

**AN:** Sorry, not an actual update. I was reading through the chapter and realized I forgot to separate the different scenes like I normally do. When I upload a story, those horizontal lines don't transfer over, so I have to add them in again.

* * *

Standing at the top of the stairs, Hannah surveyed the scene below her with a mix of emotions. Mary Margaret, Emma, and Henry were seated at the table while Mary Margaret held Neal. She could see David moving around the kitchen, cooking breakfast. She couldn't deny that she was glad to see them, even though she still thought they looked like the perfect family without her. Doubts over whether or not she'd truly been forgiven for running off after Emma and traveling back in time still gnawed at her, as well. While her mother had insisted that the incident would not be brought up again, Hannah's past experiences made it difficult for her to truly believe it.

At that moment, Mary Margaret turned to glance up at the loft and offered Hannah a big smile. "Look who's awake," she said brightly. "Good morning, sweetie."

A warm feeling spread throughout Hannah's body. Perhaps she really had been forgiven.

"Morning, Mom," Hannah murmured, holding the rail tight as she slowly made her way to the main floor. Sleep had eluded her the night before – she'd been worried about several things – and she now felt rather woozy. It wouldn't do to trip in her sleep-deprived haze and fall down the stairs. With her eyes trained on her feet all the way down, she missed the tearful smile that spread across Mary Margaret's face at her greeting.

Once safely on the ground, Hannah glanced up and offered her family what she thought was a smile, but froze when their smiles morphed into frowns.

Mary Margaret was out of her seat in an instant. Cradling Neal in one arm, she crossed the room to where Hannah still stood and placed her free hand to Hannah's cheek, leaning down to press her lips to the girl's forehead. "You don't feel warm," she murmured in confusion.

"What?" Hannah asked, equally confused.

"You look like the living dead," Henry said from his spot at the table.

"Henry…" Emma said in a low voice, giving him a look.

Hannah shuffled over to the bathroom and took a good look at her reflection. What she saw surprised her. She _did_ look like the living dead. Her normally rosy cheeks were pale and the skin around her eyes was dark. Sure, she'd had a rough night's sleep – oh, who was she kidding? She'd slept maybe 30-40 minutes all night. Still, she hadn't expected to look like one of the vampires from "Twilight".

She took the opportunity to use the bathroom then returned to the main room. "I'm just a little tired," she said when everyone's eyes turned to her.

Mary Margaret shook her head. "You look like you haven't slept in days. After breakfast, you're going back to bed."

Hannah doubted it would make much of a difference, but she didn't have the energy to protest. "Okay," she said softly, claiming the chair beside Henry.

As she watched David bring over plates of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and fresh fruit, Hannah wished she could excuse herself. She didn't have much of an appetite – she wasn't sure whether it was because she was tired or because she had a lot on her mind, but either way the foods she normally loved held no appeal.

In an effort to appease the others, Hannah served herself a pancake, a piece of bacon, and a couple of blueberries. As the others chatted, she took her time cutting the pancake into tiny pieces. Spearing one piece with her fork, Hannah took a tiny nibble before frowning and returning the rest of the piece to her plate.

"Not hungry?" David asked gently.

Emma frowned. "You hardly ate a thing the past couple of days, Hannah. You should be famished."

Hannah shrugged her shoulders. "Not really. May I be excused?"

Mary Margaret was torn between insisting Hannah eat a bit and just sending her to bed. She was sure that Hannah was going to make herself sick if she didn't eat – she already looked ill – but perhaps she'd have an easier time getting the child to eat after she'd slept a bit. Whale was due to pick Hannah up around lunch time, and Mary Margaret didn't want her to miss out on the chance to get to know her father better.

"All right," she relented. "Straight up to bed."

Grateful for the opportunity to escape their concerned looks, Hannah carried her plate to the sink before ascending the stairs. She stretched out under the covers, but sleep continued to elude her.

It appeared that Mary Margaret had been telling the truth about forgiving Hannah, or so it seemed so far, but Hannah still had another parent to worry about. She was supposed to spend the entire afternoon with her father, and all she could think of was how stern he'd seemed the night before. Surely he'd want to know the truth about what Hannah had done. She couldn't stop fretting over how he might react. Would he scold or yell at her? Would he try to punish her, too? Hannah was beginning to trust that her mom wouldn't hurt her, and a part of her didn't think her dad would hurt her either, but she still didn't know how he would react and that scared her.

Several minutes later, she heard footsteps on the stairs. Hannah expected to see Mary Margaret, so she was surprised when it was Emma's form that came into view instead.

"I thought you might still be awake," Emma said, moving to sit on the edge of the bed by Hannah's legs. "What's going on with you?"

If anyone else had asked, she might have replied that nothing was going on, or that she was just a little tired. However, Hannah knew Emma could see through any excuse she gave. Even though it was technically still an excuse, Hannah shrugged her shoulders.

Emma gave her a look, but she didn't pry. Instead, she patted Hannah's leg through the blanket. "Roll over."

The request caught the eleven-year-old off guard. "What?"

"Roll over," Emma repeated. "You need to sleep, and since you obviously don't want to talk about whatever's bothering you, we're going to at least make sure you get some sleep."

She wasn't sure what exactly to expect, but Hannah slowly turned so that she was on her stomach. The sheets and blankets were adjusted around her, and then a moment later fingers began to lightly trace circles on her back. Hannah let out an involuntary sigh.

Shifting her head, Hannah looked at Emma through heavy lids. "Did you mean what you said last night? Are you really staying in Storybrooke?"

Emma smiled gently. "Yeah, Hannah. Henry and I are staying."

"I'm glad," Hannah admitted softly. "I would have missed you."

"I would have missed you too, kid. Now, close your eyes and sleep."

She doubted she'd be able to sleep for long, but Hannah closed her eyes anyway. Even if she didn't sleep a wink, having Emma rub her back was soothing.

* * *

A knock on the door startled Hannah, and she jumped a little from her spot at the kitchen table. She'd been working on a 500-piece puzzle to try to pass the time as she waited for Whale to arrive – a difficult task, considering her eyes stung from a lack of sleep. She'd managed almost 30 minutes of sleep after breakfast before a nightmare woke her. She'd remained in bed, certain the adults would have something to say if she came down so soon, but she'd been restless after that.

She quietly put the puzzle pieces back in the box as Mary Margaret went to open the door.

"Hello, Victor," Mary Margaret said warmly.

"Mary Margaret," Whale replied. "How are you and the baby doing?"

"We're just fine. Thank you for asking." She turned to her younger daughter, who had just placed the lid on the puzzle box. "Hannah?"

Hannah slowly turned to face her parents. She was surprised by her father's appearance. She'd half-expected him to arrive in slacks, a button-down shirt and a tie – his usual apparel at work. However, that day he was significantly more casual in a sweater layered over a collared shirt and a pair of jeans. For the first time in Hannah's eyes, he looked like a real person and not just a doctor. Though he wore a smile, Hannah still felt self-conscious. "Hi, Dad," she murmured softly.

It was the first time Hannah had used the title for him, and he found he really liked it. "Hello, Hannah," he said, still smiling as he took a step toward her. "How are…" Whale trailed off, his smile fading as he got a good look at his daughter's face. "Hannah, you look exhausted," he said gently, noting the same signs of sleep deprivation that the others had noticed at breakfast. Reaching out, he felt her forehead and cheeks, checking for any sign of a fever. "Did you sleep at all last night?" he asked her, not seeing any obvious signs of illness.

"She looked like this when she came down this morning," Mary Margaret told Whale as Hannah shrugged. "She picked at her breakfast, even though she didn't eat a bite at Granny's yesterday. I sent her back up to bed after breakfast, but she didn't sleep long. I don't know what's going on."

Whale caught Hannah's gaze. "What's wrong, Hannah?"

She shook her head a little too quickly, feeling momentarily dizzy. "Nothing."

"We both know that isn't the truth," he said mildly. Before Hannah could say anything, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We're going to go get some lunch and talk a bit."

Thirty minutes later, Hannah found herself seated across from Whale in a booth at Granny's, a grilled cheese sandwich and fries in front of her. She'd tried to insist that she wasn't hungry, but apparently Whale wasn't having any of that, and so she'd ordered something to appease him. She took a miniscule bite of one of the fries before setting it down with a frown. "I'm really not hungry," she said softly.

He studied her for a minute, contemplating how to approach the situation. She clearly needed to eat, but he had no idea why she was refusing to do so. "Do you feel sick to your stomach?"

It would be an easy excuse to get out of having to eat, but she really didn't feel sick – not in that way, at least – and she had a sinking feeling he'd know whether she was telling the truth. "No…"

It had to be emotional or psychological, then, if she didn't have any nausea. Whale decided it wouldn't hurt to push her to eat some of her food. "Then I want you to eat at least half of your sandwich and five fries."

Hannah frowned. "D-a-a-a-a-d…" she whined.

"According to your mother, you've hardly eaten anything since yesterday afternoon, and you look unwell," he told her gently. "If you're refusing to eat, I'm going to assume that something is seriously wrong and I'm going to take you straight to the hospital so we can get you checked out."

Hannah's jaw dropped. "That's… that's not fair!"

Though the whining was frustrating, Whale was relieved that Hannah had enough energy to argue with him. She'd seemed so withdrawn since he'd arrived at the Charmings' loft, and having seen how much spunk she could have, that change in demeanor had concerned him most of all. "What exactly do you think isn't fair?" he asked curiously. "It isn't fair that I'm concerned about your well-being? It isn't fair that I insist on making sure that you're okay?"

"You _know_ I don't like doctors…"

"Then eat some of your lunch."

"I'm not _hungry_!" Hannah exclaimed, kicking the base of the table in frustration. Although the table was heavy and sturdy, their drinks sloshed a bit in their glasses.

Whale raised an eyebrow at Hannah, offering his daughter a silent warning that her behavior was uncalled for. When she looked down, he caught Ruby's attention. "Ruby? Could I go ahead and get our check and two to-go boxes? We're going to take this with us."

Hannah's head popped back up at the announcement. "Where are we going?" she asked cautiously as Ruby walked off.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," he told her calmly. "We'll call your mother when we get there so she knows where you are."

"What? No!" She shook her head violently, even though it made her dizzy. " _Please_ , Dad!"

He could see tears pooling in her eyes, and he felt awful knowing he was upsetting her this much, but he wasn't about to sit by and do nothing all while she looked like the living dead. "You're refusing to eat, Hannah. I told you I'd take you to the hospital if you wouldn't eat, because something is obviously wrong and I'm not going to just sit here and watch you get worse. I know you don't like doctors, but your health and wellbeing are more important than your dislike of medical professionals."

Desperate, Hannah picked up half of her grilled cheese sandwich and took a bite. She still didn't have an appetite, and the small bite seemed enormous as she struggled to chew it, but knowing he was serious about taking her to the hospital, she was willing to force herself to eat a little. She chewed and swallowed as quickly as she dared, then turned pleading eyes to her father. "I'll eat," she insisted. "Please don't make me go."

"No more arguments or complaints? You'll eat at least half of your lunch?"

"I promise!"

Ruby returned with the check and two Styrofoam boxes. "Thank you," Whale told her, taking the boxes and the check. Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a credit card and handed it back to Ruby along with the check. "I'll go ahead and pay now, but we might stay a few more minutes. I'll hold onto the boxes, just in case."

* * *

"The beach?" Hannah asked as she stepped out of the car nearly an hour later. Of all of the places she'd thought he might take her, this place had never crossed her mind. "It's too cold to go in the water. Why are we here?"

Whale retrieved a large, folded up blanket from the trunk. "I like the beach," he explained. "Watching the water can be quite relaxing."

Hannah wasn't sure she agreed, but still she accompanied Whale onto the sandy shore, watching quietly as he spread out the blanket and sat on top of it, loosely draping his arms around his knees.

Peering up at Hannah, he reached over to pat the area of blanket to his right. "Come sit down."

She hesitated a moment before sitting beside him. She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap as she stared at the water. Hannah had to admit, there was something calming about the gentle rolling of the waves.

"So…" Whale said gently, capturing Hannah's attention. "Talk to me kiddo. What's going on?"

Hannah automatically shook her head. "Nothing's going on."

He raised one eyebrow, but kept his tone soft. "I know you don't expect me to believe that, Hannah."

She turned her attention back to the water and shrugged.

Whale was tempted to ask Hannah to look at him, but then he realized it might be better to let her focus on something else. Perhaps she'd drop her walls just a little if she didn't feel like she was under so much pressure. "You look as if you haven't slept in days," he told her. "I could see you were tired last night, but it wasn't as noticeable and I chalked it up to exhaustion from an eventful day. However, there are dark shadows under your eyes today, and your face is pale." He paused, giving her a chance to process what he'd said, though he didn't expect a response. "Either you aren't feeling well or you haven't been sleeping. If you aren't sleeping, then something has to be bothering you."

She didn't say anything at first, and Whale had to force himself to be patient. He let her sit in silence, hoping she'd speak up when she was ready.

Just when it seemed like the silence would never end, Whale heard a shaky whisper.

"Are you mad at me?"

The question took him by surprise. "Am I mad at you?" he repeated, wondering if perhaps he misheard her. "No, Hannah. I'm not mad at you. Why would you think that?"

Hannah played with the hem on her sock. "You weren't happy last night…"

"That's not entirely true," disagreed the doctor. "I was frustrated that you refused to tell me where you'd been and that you were trying to lie about it, but I was also very relieved that you were safe. I was never mad, though." He watched carefully for her reaction. It didn't seem like she believed him. Reaching over, he gently tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. "Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?"

She glanced at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you never actually told me where you were."

Hannah hunched over and shifted her gaze back to her lap. "You'll be mad," she warned softly.

"Why do you think I'll be mad?"

Although they'd never explicitly discussed safety, she was fairly sure that if her mother had disapproved of her choices, her father would feel the same. She really didn't want to admit to what she'd done, but at that point Hannah wondered if she'd feel better getting it off her chest. "I did something that wasn't safe."

Whale couldn't imagine what behavior Hannah might confess, but whatever it was, he needed to know, and that meant assuring Hannah that he wouldn't lose his temper. "Well, I can't promise I won't be upset," he admitted, "but I can promise I won't yell. Does that help?"

"Maybe," conceded Hannah. She glanced at her father, who appeared calmly interested in whatever she was about to say. She then forced down the lump in her throat before admitting, "I was in the Enchanted Forest. I followed Emma through Zelena's time portal." She watched as Whale's eyebrows and forehead furrowed and the corners of his mouth curved down into a frown. "You're upset."

"I'm a little upset, yes," Whale agreed, though he made sure to maintain a calm demeanor. Of all the scenarios he'd imagined, that one had never occurred to him. "What were you thinking, Hannah?"

She chewed nervously on her bottom lip. "I wanted to be with Emma. She was sucked into the portal so I followed her. I didn't know it was a time portal, though…"

"I'm sure you understood enough to know you shouldn't have followed Emma into a swirling vortex," Whale pointed out, watching Hannah's cheeks flush slightly in acknowledgement. "Does your mother know about this?"

Hannah nodded. "She wasn't happy, either."

That didn't surprise Whale in the least. "What did she say?"

"That it was dangerous and I should have known better than to jump head-first into an unknown situation."

Whale didn't think he could have put it better himself. "I have to agree with your mom. Can I assume, however, that she made it clear that you shouldn't do something like this again?"

Hannah blushed profusely at the memory of the previous night's events. "Crystal clear," she mumbled, looking away.

He was intrigued by Hannah's reaction – Mary Margaret must have quite the impression he thought, but he chose not to pry. What mattered most was that this behavior wouldn't be repeated. "Then we won't say anything more about it," he insisted.

She stared at her father disbelievingly. "That's it?" she asked softly. "You aren't going to scold or p-punish me?"

Slowly, Whale began to suspect he understood what was really going on with Hannah. "Have you been worrying about what I would say or do?" he asked gently.

"I… I didn't know how you would react."

"Listen to me, Hannah. You're going to make mistakes from time to time – mistakes are a part of growing up, and honestly even adults make mistakes. There are going to be times when I won't be happy with your behavior, and there will be times when I'll have to provide consequences. I don't want you to ever worry so much about what I'm going to think, say, or do about something you've done, though, that you stop eating or lose sleep. No matter what you do, I am going to love you."

"You hardly know me."

"I might not have been able to know you for the past eleven years, but I have loved you every day of your life. That is never going to change."

She eyed him skeptically. "You mean that?"

"You'll quickly come to realize that I am not the kind of person who says anything he doesn't mean."

"I'm sorry I worried you yesterday," Hannah apologized quietly. "I didn't mean to."

Whale wrapped an arm around Hannah's shoulders. "I know you didn't, and I appreciate the apology." Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to her temple. "How are you feeling?"

Hannah blinked as her vision blurred just a little. "Sleepy."

"I think we should get you back home and into bed so you can rest."

"No…" said Hannah at once. "Can we stay here a little while longer? Please?"

He gave her shoulders a little squeeze. To his surprise, Hannah shifted until she was curled up against his side, her head resting on his chest. "All right," he agreed. "A few more minutes."

She yawned and allowed her heavy eyelids to droop, listening to the gentle rhythm of waves rolling onto the shore. "Thank you, Dad."

* * *

"She's okay," Whale rushed to say as he stood outside the Charmings' door, looking into Mary Margaret's concerned expression. "She fell asleep while we were out."

Mary Margaret held the door open wide so that Whale could carry Hannah inside. "How long has she been asleep?"

"Nearly an hour," he replied. "She didn't stir at all on the way here. Hopefully, she'll sleep for a while."

"Here, come put her down on my bed."

Following Mary Margaret through the apartment, Whale set Hannah down on the bed with care. He watched as she spread a blanket over Hannah's slumbering body, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Let her sleep as long as she needs to," he instructed as they stepped into the kitchen. "Considering how little she seems to have slept recently, she should have no problem sleeping through the night, regardless of how late she sleeps this afternoon." Reaching into his pocket, Whale pulled out a slip of paper, offering it to Mary Margaret. "This is a prescription for a sleep aid. If Hannah continues to have trouble sleeping, give her one pill before bed."

"Thank you, Victor," Mary Margaret said with sincerity. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

He shook his head. "No, thank you. I have to cover for someone at the hospital."

"Well, thank you for taking Hannah out this afternoon. Maybe we should get together sometime and talk? You know, since we're suddenly raising a child together?"

Whale nodded. "I'd like that. Could you let Hannah know that I'll call her later to see how she's doing?"

Mary Margaret smiled. "Of course."

* * *

Hours later, Hannah awoke, feeling groggy but better than she had in days. The first thing she noticed was that she was no longer at the beach, but in a bed. The second thing she noticed was that she wasn't in her bedroom. Light, cream-colored curtains stretched across the far side of the room, and she could just make out the silhouette of the kitchen through them. What was she doing in her mom's room? Where was her dad?

Setting the blanket aside and slipping off of the bed, she shuffled toward the curtain, pulling it to the side so she could exit the bedroom. Her mom was moving around in the kitchen while David watched from one of the bar stools. They both seemed to notice her at the same time.

"Hi sweetie!" Mary Margaret greeted her, moving to pull the eleven-year-old into her arms for a hug. She pulled back after a moment, gently grasping Hannah's shoulders as she surveyed her face. "You look much more rested, and not nearly so pale. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Hannah said softly though a yawn. "Where's Dad? What time is it?"

"It's after five. Your father was called in last minute to cover a shift this evening, but he said he'd call later and see how you're doing." Mary Margaret lifted one hand to gently cup Hannah's cheek. "Are you hungry? We're going to have dinner in an hour or so, but I could fix you a small snack now."

"How about some ice cream?" David suggested.

Mary Margaret turned to give David an incredulous look. "Really, David? Ice cream? She's going to spoil her dinner…"

"She hardly ate her breakfast this morning, I didn't see her eat a bite at Granny's last night, and Emma said she and Hook didn't see Hannah eat much while they were in the Enchanted Forest. Even Whale said she only ate half of her lunch. I doubt one small bowl of ice cream is going to spoil her appetite."

She couldn't argue with him. While she knew David could be firm – she'd seen him scold both Emma and Henry once or twice – he could also be a big softie. It was one of the things Mary Margaret loved about him. A half-amused smirk settling on her lips, she replied, "I suppose you'll advocate for her to have another bowl of ice cream after dinner, too?"

"Absolutely," David agreed with a straight face, though he caught Hannah's eye just long enough to wink at her. Hannah fought not to smile. "She's making up for not having any ice cream last night."


	13. Chapter 13

Hannah ate her bowl of ice cream, and then ate every bite of her dinner not long after. As David had promised, she enjoyed more ice cream for dessert, and then proceeded to sleep nearly twelve hours, straight through, that night.

The following day, she was much more herself, and starting to feel a bit more comfortable in her surroundings. She'd enjoyed a family breakfast – this time, she had much more of an appetite – and had made David smile when she actually called him by his first name instead of "Mr. Nolan". After that,

Emma and David were out the door, and Henry left for school, leaving Hannah at home with Mary Margaret and Neal. Hannah didn't mind. She was able to finish _Prisoner of Azkaban_ and read all of _Goblet of Fire_ that day, pausing only for lunch and bathroom breaks (and that was only because Mary Margaret had refused to let her continue reading while she ate).

Mary Margaret hadn't brought up the subject of school again, and while Hannah suspected it was because the woman was sleep deprived and distracted from caring for a newborn (which still stirred up feelings of jealousy), she was grateful for the reprieve.

Hannah was stretched out on the bed up in the loft, about to start reading _Order of the Phoenix_ , when Henry returned that afternoon from school. Momentarily distracted from her book, she watched as Henry headed straight for the table and pulled several textbooks and notebooks from his backpack. She didn't want to give her mother any reason to bring up school, but her curiosity won out, and Hannah set aside her book to join the others downstairs.

Setting a plate of cookies and a cup of cocoa on the table by Henry, Mary Margaret smiled at her daughter. "Hannah, would you like a snack?"

"Yes, please," Hannah replied as she sat across from Henry. She surveyed the school materials more closely. Henry had three textbooks – math, science, and social studies, respectively, as well as a chapter book she assumed was for English. "You have a lot of homework," she observed.

"They really get you in middle school," Henry agreed, opening his math book and math notebook. Math was probably his least favorite subject, as it had been always been harder for him than the other subjects. Even though he'd become better at math in the year he and Emma had spent in New York, it still took him extra effort, so he preferred to go ahead and get it out of the way first. "It's not too terrible, though. I have a page of problems to solve for math, and some questions to answer about _Island of the Blue Dolphins_ , but everything else is just reading."

Hannah had to admit that she was a little jealous of Henry – not about actually attending school, but about having the opportunity to learn. She didn't think she'd mind homework every day, so long as it wasn't mundane busy work.

As Mary Margaret set another plate of cookies and cup on the table, Hannah offered a quick smile. "Thanks, Mom." She was rewarded with a kiss to the top of her head. At that moment, Neal began fussing, and Mary Margaret hurried over to him.

With Mary Margaret now out of earshot, Hannah leaned forward to get a better look at Henry's math book. "What kinds of problems do you have to solve?"

"Equations with variables. We weren't working on this yet in New York, and I think I get how to solve it, but I'll never understand why they had to add letters in math in the first place. They don't even keep the same letter – sometimes you have to solve for 'x' or 'y' and then sometimes you have to solve for 'a', 'b', or 'c'."

"Can I see?"

Henry, who had just finished recording the first problem in his notebook, turned the textbook around so Hannah could read it properly. "Sure."

Hannah read the first problem. 3x + 7 = 5x – 17. She mentally moved numbers and variables around in her head. In less than 30 seconds, she said, "'x' is equal to 12."

Henry froze momentarily, then quickly went back to solving the problem on paper. When he got the same answer Hannah had, he stared at her in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

She shrugged her shoulders as if it was no big deal. "I like math, I guess."

"What grade are you in?" he asked, realizing that he had no idea. He knew she was a year younger than him, and had figured she was a grade behind him, but he didn't want to assume.

"Fifth."

Just as he had suspected. "You're in fifth grade and you solved a sixth grade math problem _in your head_ faster than I could on paper," he pointed out. "Why aren't you going to school yet?"

"Shhh!" she whispered hurriedly, glancing back to make sure Mary Margaret was still out of earshot. "Don't tell Mary Margaret that…"

Henry stared at Hannah as if she'd grown another head. "How is it you don't want to go to school?" he questioned, perplexed by her reaction. "You're clearly smart, and it seems like you're always reading. I'm a decent student, but I don't really read for fun unless you count comic books, and my English teacher doesn't consider comic books to be 'quality literature'. I bet you've been bored here."

The _Harry Potter_ series had managed to keep her occupied temporarily, but Hannah knew it would only be a matter of time until she finished the series and boredom set in. Unwilling to admit that to Henry, though, Hannah shook her head. "I've had my share of being the weird new kid – always sticking out like a sore thumb because I was dressed in hand-me-downs and my backpack was practically falling apart but my foster parents refused to buy me anything new, even though the state gave them more than enough money. All the kids knew I didn't have a real home, and I was an outcast."

"You wouldn't _be_ an outcast here," pointed out Henry. "You're the daughter of Snow White. In case you've forgotten, she was kind of a big deal back in the Enchanted Forest, and she's still a big deal here. Mary Margaret and David can afford to buy you new things, and I'm pretty sure your dad can as a doctor. It doesn't really matter, though, because everyone at school wears a uniform so no one really stands out like that."

Hannah couldn't bring herself to completely trust what Henry was saying. "I'm the _illegitimate_ daughter of Snow White and Dr. Frankenstein. If you don't think people are going to look at me funny and talk behind my back, you're even more naïve than I thought."

An unexpected look appeared on Henry's face. "I wouldn't let them," he said with such fierceness that Hannah couldn't help but to believe that he meant it with every fiber of his being.

"That might help, if we'd be at the same school. I'm not in middle school yet."

Henry nodded at his math book. "Considering how quickly you solved that problem, maybe you should be."

Skip a grade? No way in hell was she going to voluntarily put a metaphorical sign on her back saying 'freaky smart kid'. She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like that won't make me stand out, being the youngest kid in sixth grade. Look, I appreciate you looking out for me, but I'm fine with how things are now. Please don't say anything about me going to school to Mary Margaret or Emma or anyone else."

While Henry wasn't adverse to keeping secrets when it mattered, he felt like Hannah _needed_ school, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Still, he was willing to keep his mouth shut. There were other ways of ensuring the topic came up without having to say a word. "I'll stay quiet under one condition," he promised as he took a sip of his cocoa.

She eyed him suspiciously. "What's that?"

"You help me with my math."

Hannah suspected that if Mary Margaret saw her doing math with Henry, she might decide to enroll her at school. "Fine," she agreed, "but it has to be covertly. I don't want to give anyone any ideas…"

* * *

Later that evening, Hannah found herself stretched out on her bed once more, this time with Henry's science textbook open in front of her. She'd managed to get her hands on it – with his permission, of course – without attracting any attention from the adults. She, Mary Margaret, and Neal were the only ones home, as David was at the station and Emma had gone after Henry. Hannah felt a bit bad for Henry, who was upset after his other mom, Regina, had pretty much said she wanted to be alone after her messy breakup with Robin. The Evil Queen and Robin Hood, dating – Hannah couldn't quite wrap her head around it.

She wouldn't have minded joining Emma, but she figured that Emma and Henry might need some alone time, and she could respect that. So, Hannah was reading about sixth grade science topics. She'd already read about the basics – the scientific method and all that fun stuff. Now, she was learning about different landforms and the effects of weathering. Geology wasn't a subject she'd researched much on her own, but it was interesting enough.

Hannah was just learning about mass movement when she was suddenly plunged into darkness. She stayed still a moment as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

"Mom…?"

"I'm down here," she heard her mother's voice carry up from somewhere below. "It looks like the power is out. Stay where you are while I find some candles."

It was slightly creepy staying up in the pitch black loft without even a nightlight, but she didn't want to go tumbling down the stairs because she couldn't see where she was placing her feet, so Hannah stayed put. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long, as she could hear footsteps on the stairs a little over a minute later.

She could barely make out her mother's silhouette as she walked over to the nightstand by the bed. Hannah heard the striking of a match, and then several seconds later a soft glow enveloped the room as Mary Margaret lit several candles. She placed one on the dresser then carefully carried another around the bed to set atop a dresser.

"There," Mary Margaret said in satisfaction. "Much better." She walked over to the bed to see what her daughter had been up to before the loss of power. The open book on the bed looked a lot like a science textbook, but she wasn't sure where Hannah had found it. "What are you reading?"

"Uh, nothing," Hannah said quickly, shutting the textbook with a soft thud and reaching for a pillow to cover the book. However, as she reached for the pillow, Mary Margaret reached over and picked up the book.

Mary Margaret studied the cover. "Is this Henry's science book?"

Hannah mentally cursed. "Yeah," she said softly. She hadn't stopped to think about it, but would her mother be upset that she was looking at one of Henry's books? "Henry said I could look at it."

"In the midst of everything that has happened this past week, I completely forgot to enroll you in school," Mary Margaret realized, putting a hand to her head. "I'm so sorry about that, Hannah. We'll drive there tomorrow and get you registered."

"Oh… that's okay," Hannah rushed to say. "No hurry…"

Mary Margaret chuckled at Hannah's obvious objection to starting school again. "You can't tell me you haven't been the least bit bored when you've resorted to reading one of Henry's schoolbooks. School will be great. You'll have something to do during the day besides sit around here, and you'll get to interact with kids your own age."

Hannah wasn't convinced, but before she could try to talk Mary Margaret out of this whole school idea, she heard a knock on the door.

"Here," Mary Margaret said, handing her back the book with a smile. "I'm going to see who that is."

The eleven-year-old willingly accepted the book and turned back to the unit she'd been perusing before as her mother went back downstairs to get the door. Her interest in the unit surpassed any curiosity about the visitor or visitors, so she stayed where she was.

After a moment, she heard the door open and several voices. Granny's voice she recognized at once, but the other two were less familiar. From what she could hear, though, her mother knew them, and they'd come to complain about the power outage. That surprised Hannah, as she hadn't expected it to be a town-wide problem.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," she heard her mother say, and then the door closed. That caught Hannah's attention, and she set aside the book to walk to the top of the stairs at the same time Mary Margaret reached the bottom.

"I have to go down to the power plant and see if I can get the power turned back on," Mary Margaret explained. "Put your shoes on so we can go."

Hannah had no objection to not staying in the dark apartment, but she _really_ didn't want to go to a power plant. It sounded horribly dull. "Can't I go somewhere else? I could go to the sheriff's office with David…"

Mary Margaret shook her head. "I'm sure David is very busy with this blackout. He might not even be at the station right now."

So, David was out… Emma was out… Where else could she go?

"Dad!" Hannah said suddenly. "Could I go to Dad's house while you're working on the power?"

She wasn't sure whether or not Whale was even home, but Mary Margaret figured it wouldn't hurt to ask. "All right," she agreed as she fished for her cell phone. "Let me call your father and see if that's an option, but if it isn't, you're coming with me and I don't want to hear any complaints."

Ten minutes later, Mary Margaret, baby in her arms, escorted her younger daughter in the front entrance to Storybrooke General. It was the only building within miles that had any lights on, due to the backup generators in place in case of such a situation. Mary Margaret figured there were a few patients who couldn't afford to spend hours without power.

Whale met them by the reception desk. "Are you sure you don't need any help?" he asked.

Mary Margaret smiled as she shook her head. "I've got it, thank you. Are you sure it's okay for Hannah to be here? I know you're working right now…"

"It's fine," he assured her. "Things are calm right now, but if they pick up, Hannah can hang out in my office."

"She brought a book with her, so she'll have something to occupy her time," Mary Margaret told him. She turned to her daughter and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll see you in a little bit. Behave…"

Hannah turned to her dad and smiled brightly. "So, what are we going to do?"

" _Dr. Whale, please report to Pediatrics. Dr. Whale, please report to Pediatrics."_

Shaking his head, Whale wrapped an arm around Hannah's shoulders. "It seems I'm going to get you settled in my office and head down to the pediatric ward. Come on."

* * *

She sighed as she pushed her eggs around on her plate. For the first time since finding Storybrooke, Hannah was going to school, and right then she was convinced she'd rather do just about anything else. She could remember a time when she'd enjoyed school – a few foster homes perhaps, when she'd been in a school and in a class that challenged her – but she'd quickly grown bored at the last two schools. At the Flints' in particular she'd had a difficult time finding enough resources to satisfy her curiosity outside of school. Hannah worried that Storybrooke's elementary school would be the same.

Of course, she was also worried about the kids. Regardless of what Mary Margaret had said, she was sure she'd stick out like a sore thumb. The other fifth graders would probably think she was weird. She certainly couldn't relate to having lived in the Enchanted Forest, despite her recent unintended visit. She was, literally, from a completely different world. It might have been better if she knew Henry would be around, but as a sixth grader, he attended the secondary school next door.

"I don't feel good," she whined softly, looking at her mother with what she hoped was a pitiful expression.

Mary Margaret paused what she was doing in the kitchen to study Hannah carefully. The girl had been fine the night before, and from where Mary Margaret stood, Hannah certainly didn't appear feverish or under the weather. She knew Hannah was feeling apprehensive about school, and suspected that was the root of the complaint. Still, she'd feel bad if Hannah was genuinely ill and she sent her to school anyway.

Wiping her hands on a towel, Mary Margaret crossed the apartment and gently pressed the back of her hand to Hannah's forehead. She did the same with the child's cheeks. "You don't feel warm," she murmured. "Are you feeling a little anxious about your first day?"

"I just don't feel good," Hannah repeated, unwilling to admit that her mother was spot on. "I want to go back to bed."

"I think you'll feel a little better after you get settled in. Miss Kirkland is a very nice teacher."

This wasn't going at all how Hannah had hoped. "Mom…" she whined, jutting her lip just enough for a small pout.

Smiling gently, Mary Margaret brushed the hair from Hannah's forehead. "If you're still not feeling well at lunch, I'll come pick you up early."

Deflated, Hannah dropped her fork on her plate and slouched down in her seat. "I'm done," she announced, folding her arms across her chest. She'd eaten a handful of bites, at best, and truthfully was still hungry, but if she couldn't talk her way out of going to school, it was the only form of protest she had left.

Mary Margaret glanced at Hannah's plate and promptly shook her head. The girl had barely touched her breakfast, and Mary Margaret had a sinking feeling the day would go spectacularly wrong if she didn't get Hannah to eat a bit more. "Nope. Eat half of your eggs and orange, and finish your milk. Then you can be finished."

Stubbornly, Hannah reached out and pushed her plate toward the middle of the table, then crossed her arms once more. "I'm not hungry," she argued.

Mary Margaret let out an exasperated sigh. "Hannah, you need to eat."

"I'm not hungry," repeated Hannah.

The frustrated mother opened her mouth to reply, but a knock on the door interrupted her. Giving Hannah a look, she went to unlock and open the door. "Victor?" she asked in surprise as she stepped back so that Whale could enter.

"Good morning, Mary Margaret," Whale greeted her. "I was on my way in to the hospital early and I wanted to stop by and wish Hannah a great first day of school," he explained.

She smiled tiredly and closed the door behind Whale. "Of course." Glancing over at Hannah, she raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you can convince her to eat her breakfast." Wanting to give them a moment, Mary Margaret went to check on Neal.

Whale stepped closer to the table and silently assessed the scene in front of him. Judging from the amount of food still on her plate and Mary Margaret's comment, Hannah had barely eaten. Hannah was still slouching in her chair, arms stubbornly crossed over her chest. As her eyes met his, he slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks and arched an eyebrow questioningly.

Hannah stared at her father, subconsciously sucking her lip between her teeth. Lunch at Granny's from nearly a week earlier came to mind, and she wondered if he'd threaten to take her to the hospital again for not eating. She couldn't be sure, but his expression made it clear that he wasn't impressed.

After several long seconds, Hannah decided it wasn't worth it. Straightening up, she pulled her plate back towards her and took a respectable bite of eggs. She glanced back over at him as she chewed, watching intently as he closed the distance between them and took a seat adjacent to her at the table.

"Good morning," he said in a calm tone.

"Good morning," Hannah mumbled before taking another bite of eggs, lest he think she was still refusing to eat.

"What's going on?"

It probably wouldn't work, but Hannah decided the innocent act was worth a shot. "What do you mean?"

" _Hannah_."

She slumped her shoulders a bit at the reprimand. "I don't feel good," she muttered, unwilling to come out and just admit that she didn't want to go to school.

His hand immediately moved to her forehead. "How so?" prodded Whale.

Hannah froze. Her mom hadn't pressed for further details about how she felt unwell after feeling her head, so she hadn't expected such questioning from her dad. "I… uh…" she stammered. "I just don't."

"Does your head hurt?" he pressed. "Your stomach?"

She couldn't truthfully say that anything hurt – despite the butterflies in her stomach – and Whale's line of questioning was irritating her. Hannah felt the sudden urge to throw something, but there was nothing on the table she could throw without causing damage, so she pounded her fist on the table instead. " _I just don't!_ " she shouted angrily.

"Hannah Victoria!" she heard Mary Margaret exclaim in dismay from the bedroom.

Whale's brow furrowed slightly. Hannah mentally prepared for a serious scolding, but instead, her father rose calmly from his chair.

"Stand up."

Hannah stared at her dad, apprehension building in the pit of her stomach. "Why?" she questioned cautiously, making no move to follow his directions.

"Stand up," he repeated.

She really didn't want to, but Hannah's body seemed to move on its own accord, and before she knew it she was on her feet, staring questioningly at the man in front of her.

Whale put a hand on her shoulder and gently propelled her to the tiny living room adjacent to the bathroom. At first, Hannah thought he was headed for the sofa, but then Whale let go of her shoulder and reached for the armchair in the right corner, turning it so it faced the corner. Hannah felt a hand on each shoulder then, and before she could process what was happening, her dad had gently pushed her shoulders until she was seated in the chair, facing the walls.

"What…?" Hannah began to ask, but she was quickly cut off.

"Eleven minutes," Whale told her, his voice calm.

Hannah shot out of the chair in indignation. "You're putting me in a _time out_?" she nearly shrieked.

Reaching over, Whale gently pushed her back down onto the chair. "Eleven minutes," he repeated.

She stood the moment he let go of her shoulders, this time turning to face him with her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. "No way. I am not sitting in this corner like some naughty toddler!"

"You are going to sit for eleven minutes," Whale said calmly. "I don't have to be at the hospital for another two hours, so I have plenty of time to wait for you to cooperate. However, each time you get up, we're starting all over again, and if you continue to fight me on this you'll end up being late for school. I'm sure you don't want to walk into class late on your first day, with everyone's undivided attention on you at that moment."

Hannah had no qualms engaging in a battle of wills. However, as much as she didn't want to admit it, Whale was right. The last thing she wanted, if she couldn't weasel her way out of going to school, was to walk into that classroom in the middle of day and have everyone staring at her at once. It was rather devious of him to even suggest such a thing, she thought. Hannah glared at her father, but her display of her own displeasure didn't seem to faze him, and with a huff she spun around and dropped back onto the chair.

She could hear her father's footsteps as he walked away, but no one said a word. Sighing, she pulled her feet up so that they teetered on the edge of the cushion and hugged her knees to her chest. She couldn't believe her he had actually put her in time out. She wasn't two, and she honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd dealt with such a babyish punishment. Most of her foster families had opted for grounding her if she did something they didn't like, with the exception of her last home, and well… that was far worse than any grounding or time out.

Hannah knew she shouldn't have snapped at her dad like that. It wasn't his fault entirely. She absolutely blamed both him and Mary Margaret for forcing her to go to school in the first place, but it wasn't their faults that she had such an aversion to school at the moment. She wished she could explain it to them, but she felt like they wouldn't be able to understand. Her mom, especially, saw the best in everyone and everything, and that incessant optimism would only serve to frustrate Hannah.

The minutes seemed to drag on as she waited to be released from her temporary prison. She knew she could stand up and walk away; it wasn't as if anyone was holding her down. However, she also trusted her father when he said that he'd start the eleven minutes all over again should she move from the spot he'd chosen for her. The wait was boring enough without adding extra time.

After what felt like hours instead of minutes, she could hear footsteps approaching, and a gentle hand on her shoulder. Craning her head to see, she saw her dad's face. He held up one finger, motioning her to him. Hannah rose from the chair and walked around to stand in front of Whale.

"Feeling calmer?"

She gave a short nod. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," she apologized in a soft voice.

He responded by pulling her into a hug. Hannah wrapped her arms around him, still unable to believe he could forgive her so easily after she'd given both him and Mary Margaret a hard time.

"Want to tell me the real reason you don't want to go to school?" he asked in a gentle tone as he rubbed her back."

Hannah shook her head against Whale's chest.

Stepping back, Whale brushed the hair from Hannah's face so he could see her better. "What's going on, Hannah?"

Part of her wanted to tell someone how she was feeling, but a larger part of her was convinced that no one would really understand, not even Emma. It was easier, she decided, not to talk about it at all. "I don't want to talk about it."

He wanted to push the subject, but he also didn't want to push so hard that Hannah completely shut down. She didn't show any indications of actually being ill, and she'd calmed down, so he'd have to let it go for now. "All right," he agreed. "Come finish your breakfast, then, so you can get ready."


	14. Chapter 14

Hannah ate her lunch in silence, steadfastly avoiding eye contact with everyone around her as she focused on the open book before her. It had been a rough morning, and despite the fact that she was sitting alone, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be around anyone at the moment. It had been a _long_ morning, and she needed a few minutes to collect herself.

Although she'd entered the classroom when the others had, all eyes had followed her for the first several minutes. It would have made an outgoing person feel self-conscious, so for someone like Hannah, it was downright excruciating. Even after her teacher, Miss Kirkland, had called the class to order and had begun their lessons for the day, Hannah could still feel the other kids' eyes on her from time to time. No one snickered or seemed to be making fun of her, but even now at lunch, no one made any attempt to approach her, either.

Math had been the first subject, and Hannah had quickly discovered that she already knew how to solve the problems. It wasn't much of a surprise, considering she understood the math Henry was doing in middle school, but she had hoped maybe there would be something she hadn't learned yet. No such luck. She hadn't wanted to attract any attention, so she'd tried her best not to work ahead – which had resulted in a great deal of boredom. Hannah had the feeling she was going to have to find a way to secretly do her homework in class while her teacher was explaining the math to everyone else, so she wouldn't be completely bored.

Next had been English/Language Arts. The class was in the middle of reading _Hatchet_ , a book she'd read back in third grade. Even after all of that time, she could remember the book clearly enough to answer the questions Miss Kirkland was asking the other boys and girls, but she didn't dare volunteer. Miss Kirkland assured her that she had plenty of time to "catch up" on the reading the others had completed, and that she wasn't required to complete the homework assignment that evening to write several paragraphs about the book. Instead, Miss Kirkland had offered to let Hannah write about herself. Hannah knew she'd much rather write about the book, but she wasn't sure whether she wanted Miss Kirkland to know that she'd already read it.

Science and social studies were after lunch and Hannah had no doubt the afternoon would be just as long and tedious as the morning had been.

She couldn't wait for school to be over.

* * *

Mary Margaret was waiting eagerly at the door when Hannah returned home that afternoon.

"How was your first day?" she asked, surprisingly bubbly for the mother of a newborn.

The response made Hannah wonder if her mother was a bit delirious from lack of sleep, but either way she didn't have the heart to dash her mother's excitement. "It was fine," she said softly, heading for the stairs up to the loft.

"Wait!" Hannah paused at the command, hoping the woman hadn't seen through her "fine" comment. "Come sit down and tell me all about it!" insisted Mary Margaret.

The eleven-year-old held back a sigh. She really didn't have the energy to sit there and pretend she'd had a good day. "I'm a little tired," she said. "I was kind of hoping I could go rest for a little bit." She yawned for effect.

Mary Margaret frowned a little, and Hannah resisted the urge to roll her eyes as her mother felt her forehead for the second time that day. Why hadn't she been more concerned that morning before Hannah had been forced to go to school? "Are you feeling unwell?"

"Just tired," Hannah assured her. "It's been a couple of weeks since I was last in school."

"Maybe you should have a little snack first," Mary Margaret pressed, unconvinced. "It's been a while since lunch."

"I'm not really hungry," Hannah said truthfully. "Can I just go lie down for a few minutes?"

For a moment it didn't seem like she would agree – Mary Margaret seemed doubtful –but finally she relented. "All right, go ahead."

Hannah mustered up a small smile, hoping it would pacify her mother. "Thanks, Mom."

Once up in her room, Hannah changed at once from her school uniform into leggings and a sweatshirt. Much more comfortable, she settled on her bed and pulled out her homework. She only had math and writing, and she knew they wouldn't take long. She much preferred to complete her homework up here, away from prying eyes, even if working at the table might be easier.

The math problems took all of five minutes. Hannah hadn't expected them to take a great deal of time; it would be a breeze to get her math homework done in class, if she could pass it off as working on the actual assignment. The writing assignment took a bit longer, mostly because she ended up covering the front and back of a piece of notebook paper instead of just writing a couple of paragraphs. She'd decided to go ahead and complete the assignment the others had to complete. It wasn't as if they'd know what she'd written, and she detested writing about herself. All in all, though, her homework was complete and neatly stored in her backpack in less than thirty minutes.

Homework now out of the way, Hannah stretched out on her bed, resting her head on one pillow as she hugged the other to her chest. She _was_ exhausted, though for completely different reasons than what she'd told her mother. Avoiding making eye contact with the other kids all day had been exhausting. Pretending she didn't already know _everything_ they were learning in class that day had been exhausting. Resisting the urge to work ahead and pull out _Harry Potter_ from her backpack had been exhausting.

Closing her eyes, Hannah decided a quick nap might not be a bad idea.

* * *

Her second day wasn't any better than her first had been.

The other kids continued to avoid Hannah, who for her part was doing her best to remain invisible. She'd brought her _Harry Potter_ book again, and today she'd actually managed to sneak it out during reading. Hannah had figured out how to get her homework done in class without attracting attention, so it was a little easier to pass the time, even if she was still bored by the actual content the other kids were learning.

After school, David was waiting outside to give Hannah a ride to the mayor's office. Her mom was having some kind of "mayor's fireside chat" thing, and since no one else was going to be home, Mary Margaret had insisted that Hannah come along. Really, Hannah thought it was kind of silly – at eleven, she was more than old enough to stay home alone for a few hours, but her mother wouldn't hear of it, so there Hannah was, seated in the back row in her mother's new office. Predicting that the meeting would be boring, Hannah fished out her book from her backpack and curled up in the chair the best she could to finish reading about Harry's adventures in _Order of the Phoenix_.

As someone who tended to get lost in the books she read, Hannah had pretty much tuned out everything around her, until she heard a voice yell, "Marian!" Glancing up from her book, Hannah realized that Robin's wife had just collapsed. Hannah stood, setting her book on her chair, and tried to move closer to see what had happened. Marian was really pale, which was particularly striking given her light coffee complexion. Hannah noticed a streak of white hair originating from Marian's forehead. She definitely hadn't noticed that on the woman earlier.

Robin lifted his wife and set her gently on a nearby sofa as the other people in the room were slowly ushered out. Then, to Hannah's surprise, Robin strode out of the room. She thought it was odd that he would leave his wife after she'd just passed out, but no one else seemed to think anything of it.

"What happened to her?" Hannah asked softly after a minute, looking at her mother and stepfather.

"We don't know," David said, shaking his head.

Mary Margaret wore a frown. She'd just remembered that Hannah was there, and suddenly she wanted Hannah to be as far away from there as possible. "Maybe you should go wait at home," she told Hannah.

"Nuh uh!" Hannah protested at once. "I'm not waiting at home by myself while everyone else is here."

"We don't know what we're dealing with," Mary Margaret pressed. "I'd feel better knowing you were safe at home."

Hannah put two and two together. "You think this is something magical, don't you?"

Footsteps in the hallway grew louder, and Hannah turned to watch Robin reenter the room, Regina and Henry close behind. Regina strode over to Marian, leaning down to examine her. Hannah noticed that Marian's eyebrows and lips looked… frosty? No, that couldn't be right.

"This is strong magic," Regina said. "I-I can't stop it, but maybe I can slow it down."

"What happened?" Emma demanded as she, Elsa, and Hook joined the group.

Hannah watched as Regina pointed a finger at Elsa, who in turn insisted it wasn't her magic. Emma defended Elsa, Regina disagreed… It was like a fairy tale soap opera was playing out right before her very eyes! Quietly retreating to the chair she'd vacated earlier, Hannah sat and watched the adults with interest. It nagged at her that they didn't seem to object to Henry's presence, and that Mary Margaret made no move to part with Neal, even after she had fussed over whether or not Hannah was safe being there. Still, it was better than reality television, and she had a front row seat, so she wasn't going to waste the opportunity by pouting.

* * *

"How was school?"

Hannah dropped her backpack on one end of the sofa before plopping down on the other end. "It was fine."

Whale perched on the edge of his desk, studying his daughter doubtfully. She certainly didn't _look_ fine. "Your words say it was fine, but your voice and body language say something else. What's going on?"

"Nothing," she lied, shaking her head. "It was fine, really. I'm just tired."

The doubt didn't dissipate from his gaze. "Your mother mentioned you've been tired the past few days." Straightening up, moved to stand before her, leaning down to feel her forehead. "You don't feel warm, but maybe a quick checkup, just to make sure nothing is amiss…"

"No!" Hannah said quickly, shaking her head with greater vigor. "That's not necessary…"

Whale couldn't help but find amusement in Hannah's knee jerk reaction. The kid had a serious aversion to medical professionals. He hid his amusement so Hannah wouldn't think he was laughing at her. "I think it is." He walked around to the other side of his desk, where he kept a medical bag in case he had to visit a patient outside of the hospital. It didn't happen often, but he still felt better being prepared.

"I think I'll just go home and go to bed."

Spinning around, Whale spotted Hannah not three feet from the door, backpack slung over her shoulder. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Freeze." Relief washed over the father when Hannah stilled her motions; he really hadn't wanted to chase her through the hospital. "Sit back down."

Hannah turned to face her father, though she made no move toward the sofa. "I'm fine," she tried once more. "I don't feel sick."

"As the only doctor in this room, I think I'll decide that for myself." He pointed to the sofa.

She rolled her eyes. "Says the man who got his medical degree from a curse," she muttered, shuffling back over to the sofa and dropping once more onto the cushions.

"I was a doctor back in the Land Without Color," Whale said with a chuckle. He grabbed the back of his desk chair, rolling it around so that it was positioned in front of the sofa. "This gives us the perfect opportunity to talk about your aversion to doctors," he announced, taking a seat and setting the bag on the cushion beside Hannah.

Hannah folded her arms over her chest as she leaned into the back of the sofa, wordlessly warning her dad that she wasn't about to make this easy for him. "Lots of people don't like doctors."

Reaching into the bag, Whale extracted a thermometer. "True," he agreed as he placed a disposable cover on the thermometer. "They typically have reasons for their dislike of doctors. I'm interested in knowing your reasons."

"I just don't."

He held out the thermometer, just millimeters from her lips. "Under your tongue."

Grateful for the excuse not to talk, Hannah willingly held the device under her tongue.

"I don't believe that for a second." Whale held out his hand. "Let me see your arm, please."

Hannah glared, unable to respond and still keep the thermometer in place without moving her arms.

Whale couldn't be certain without some sort of confirmation from Hannah, but he suspected she was worried he might poke her with something. Fear of needles was a common reason people feared doctors, at least from his own experience. " I'm just going to check your pulse," he assured her.

Cautiously Hannah untangled her arms and extended her left just enough for Whale to reach. She watched nervously as he gently turned her arm, placing two fingers on the inside of his wrist. He glanced at the watch on his other wrist, and Hannah remained as still and quiet as she could.

After what seemed like a long time (in reality fifteen seconds), Whale gently set Hannah's wrist in her lap and reached out for the thermometer. "Your pulse and temperature are both normal."

"I'm fine," Hannah reminded him, annoyed that he wouldn't just take her word for it. "Are we done?"

"I want to check your blood pressure and listen to your heart first," he said, dashing her hopes. "Besides, we weren't finished talking."

She watched him toss out the probe cover and replace the thermometer in his bag before reaching for another item. "I'm finished talking," she announced in a less than polite way. "If you want to talk to someone, you'll have to have a conversation with yourself." It was snarky and even a bit disrespectful, considering whom she was speaking to, but Hannah found she didn't care. He might scold her, but she seriously doubted he'd actually do anything.

Though he did indeed find her response disrespectful, Whale didn't push it. As he placed the cuff on her arm to check her blood pressure, he wondered if it might be beneficial for Hannah to talk with Dr. Hopper. Given everything the kid had been through, most of which she had yet to share with her family, it made sense she'd need someone impartial to talk to, and Whale was fairly confident that Mary Margaret would agree.

Whale said nothing more as he finished checking Hannah's blood pressure, which also turned out to be normal. He doubted he'd find anything out of the ordinary with her heart, but he checked anything. Aside giving directions on how he wanted Hannah to breathe as he pressed the stethoscope against her shirt, he worked silently.

As the silence grew, Hannah began to feel bad. She didn't regret putting an end to a conversation she had no interest in having in the first place, but she began to wonder if she'd made her father angry. He'd been so calm and patient with her since she'd first met him that she'd begun to feel safe around him, even if she still didn't feel safe around doctors. Still, the nagging fear in the back of her mind was that eventually she'd push away her family – Whale, Mary Margaret, David, Emma, Henry. Sooner or later they'd have to get fed up with her, just as almost every other foster parent she'd ever had had done.

Watching him place the stethoscope back in his bag, Hannah decided she could no longer take the silence. "Are you mad at me?"

He should have figured she'd worry about that, he thought to himself as he twisted his chair momentarily to place his bag on his desk. "No, Hannah. I'm not mad at you."

Hannah bit her lip nervously. "I'm sorry about what I said," she apologized. "I realize it might have been a little rude…" As Whale raised an eyebrow, Hannah sighed. "A lot rude…" she amended.

"Something's bothering you," Whale observed. "I've noticed that when something is bothering you, you keep it bottled in, which makes you a bit irritable. I think you'd feel better if you told someone, anyone, what it is that's bothering you, but I can't force you to talk."

"I'm fine," she said softly.

"You don't appear to be ill, kiddo, but you're not fine." At that moment, Whale was paged over the intercom. Sighing, he reached for a blanket. "Lie down."

She gave him a curious glance, but obeyed nonetheless, setting her backpack on the floor and curling up on her side. Hannah watched in silence as Whale covered her with the blanket.

"Rest," he said gently, rubbing her back. "I'll be back as soon as I can, and if you feel like talking then, I'll be here. If you don't feel like talking, I'll still be here." Leaning down, he kissed her temple before heading for the door.

Hannah waited nearly a minute, just to be safe, before sitting up, shedding the blanket. She wasn't tired in the traditional sense, and knowing her father could be down in the E.R. for a while she had no intention of napping during that time. Standing, she made a beeline for the bookshelves, eyeing the titles on the spines. They were all related in one way or another to medicine, but they seemed much more interesting than what Hannah was reading at school.

After several minutes of deliberation, Hannah settled on a thick volume on human anatomy and physiology. Carefully sliding the book off the shelf, Hannah returned to the sofa and tucked her feet under her legs as she set the book in her lap and opened to the table of contents.

* * *

Hannah sat at the kitchen table, _Half-Blood Prince_ open in front of her. She hadn't read any of the words on either page, though. Her mind was preoccupied with Emma, who was upstairs in the loft, getting ready for her date with Hook.

When Emma had announced that afternoon that she had a date with the pirate, Hannah hadn't known what to think. From the moment Hannah had met Hook, it had been glaringly obvious that he had a thing for Emma. Watching them dance back in the Enchanted Forest, Hannah couldn't help but notice that Emma seemed to have feelings for him as well. She knew they'd kissed once or twice, but they hadn't actually gone on an official date. Hannah didn't even really dislike Hook, as he seemed to care about Emma and Hannah hadn't thought she could ever truly dislike someone who was looking out for Emma.

She had been wrong. Now that they were going on an official date, Hannah felt an overwhelming distaste for Captain Hook.

In the meantime, Mary Margaret and David were helping Elsa find her sister Anna. Hannah heard someone approach, and glanced up as Mary Margaret set a stack of large, uniform books on the table with a soft thud, Neal sleeping soundly cradled in one arm.

"Census records from the first and second curses," Mary Margaret told Elsa. "If Anna has ever been in Storybrooke, we'll find some trace of her here."

"Your curses are very… thorough," Elsa said, eyeing the volumes in surprise.

Mary Margaret arched a brow. "That's just A through E."

"Here are the rest of them," David announced, setting an even larger stack on the table.

Hannah tried to turn her attention back to her book, to at least pretend like she was reading, but at the sound of Emma's voice, Hannah dropped any pretense of reading.

Emma was wearing a light pink sleeveless dress with a form-fitting bodice and a skirt that flared out to just below her knees. Her hair was pulled into a cute ponytail that flipped at the end, with her hair a little poufy in the front, just above her forehead. Hannah spied nude heels on Emma's feet, and her older sister's makeup was light, though the mascara and eye liner really helped her eyes to pop more. The whole look had a very 1950s/retro feel to it.

Hannah thought she looked positively beautiful.

"Okay. I want honest opinions here. What do we think?"

"Wow," breathed Mary Margaret after a moment of stunned silence.

"What your mother said," David added.

"Is that the corset?" Elsa wondered aloud. "Where's the rest of it?"

Emma glanced down at her dress in confusion. "This is the rest of it…"

"You look like a princess," Hannah murmured so softly she doubted anyone would hear.

However, Emma smiled at her. "Your time will come soon enough," she said knowingly.

Hannah shook her head, not believing that for a moment. "Not likely. Dad said I'm not allowed to date until I'm at least 30."

Mary Margaret laughed lightly. She imagined David agreed with the sentiment – he probably would have shared that sentiment regarding Emma, if not for the fact that she'd already had a child. He couldn't reasonably expect her not to date at this point, but Mary Margaret was sure that David felt just as protective of Hannah. "I'll talk to your father," she assured Hannah as she moved to set Neal down in his bassinet. "Someone's sister is going on a very big date tonight!" she cooed to the still-sleeping infant.

Emma started to object to the classification, but was temporarily blinded by the flash of an old-fashioned Polaroid camera. "I really need to get my own place," she mused to herself.

"Cut your mother some slack," David said. "It isn't as if we got to send you to a ball."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. As Emma went to open the door, Hannah was transfixed by the scene unfolding before her.

As she (and everyone else) had expected, it was Hook. He stared at Emma as if she was the most amazing creature he'd ever seen, and from her spot, Hannah could tell that Emma was equally impressed with his appearance. Hannah noticed that Hook had ditched his pirate garb for a pair of black pants, a black button-up shirt, and a black leather jacket. While he was still pulling off the all-black, bad boy look, he looked much more like a part of this world than someone on their way to a Halloween party. As Hannah watched him hand Emma a single red rose, she realized with surprise that his hook had been replaced by a hand that seemed so lifelike.

She only half heard the overprotective Dad bit from David, and as Hook escorted Emma out the door, Hannah felt a mix of emotions she couldn't quite label.

The only thing she knew for certain was that she now despised Captain Killian Jones.


	15. Chapter 15

Hannah stared out the window as she and Henry rode the bus to school. Although she'd had a lot on her mind over the weekend, and she wasn't happy about the turn of events with Emma and Hook, she'd appreciated the brief break from school. Now she was on her way back to what she was beginning to think of as her own personal hell, and Hannah just felt depressed.

She couldn't do it, she decided as the bus pulled up by the school. She couldn't deal with acting like everything was fine all day. She couldn't deal with spending lunch and recess alone, with pretending she wasn't utterly bored in class.

She couldn't deal with school.

As she stepped off the bus after Henry, Hannah quietly turned and began walking in the opposite direction from the rest of the kids headed toward the elementary and secondary schools. She'd taken maybe ten steps when a hand wrapped around her elbow, stilling her movements. Turning in surprise, she saw Henry standing before her.

"Where are you going?"

"I can't," she said in a small voice, shaking her head. They hadn't attracted anyone else's attention, and Hannah wanted to keep it that way. "I can't deal with school today."

Henry stared at her, wide-eyed. "You can't skip school… not with the Snow Queen out there. You saw what she did to Marian. If my mom hadn't removed Marian's heart before the curse reached it, Marian would be dead. The Snow Queen is too dangerous."

"The Snow Queen doesn't care about me. I'll make sure I stay away from her."

"Mary Margaret will kill you when she finds out you've skipped school," Henry said pointedly, "especially considering what's going on. _Everyone_ will kill you when they find out."

" _If_ they find out," amended Hannah. She stared at Henry pleadingly. "You aren't going to rat me out, are you?"

The twelve-year-old felt torn. On one hand, there was a strong urge within him to protect Hannah at all costs, even if that meant snitching on her. Even after traveling back in time with Emma to the Enchanted Forest, Hannah still didn't understand magic the way Henry did. She didn't realize what a threat the Snow Queen was and how defenseless they, as mere mortals, were against the woman. On the other hand, he understood the need for space, and if he wanted to do something his moms wouldn't necessarily approve of, he would want to be able to ask Hannah not to snitch on him.

"They're going to figure it out when you aren't on the bus after school," he pointed out.

Hannah had already thought of that, and had a solution ready. "I'll make sure I'm back here before the bus leaves, and I'll ride back with you. They'll never know."

It wasn't a bad plan, Henry had to admit. The school didn't tend to call home until a student was absent for at least two days, so the likelihood of anyone calling to inform the adults was low. As long as Hannah stayed far away from the Snow Queen, she should be okay. "I won't say anything, but you have to promise me you'll stay as far away from that evil witch as you can."

She let out a sigh of relief that Henry wasn't going to stop her. "I promise. Thank you!"

Henry glanced behind him. No one had noticed them yet, but that wouldn't last long. "You'd better hurry before someone looks this way and sees you. I'll see you this afternoon – 3:00 sharp," he added pointedly.

"Three o' clock sharp," Hannah agreed.

* * *

As Henry stepped through the double doors of Storybrooke Secondary, he spied several things that he shouldn't. The sheriff vehicle was parked right in front of the school, along with David's pickup truck. He recognized his mother's shiny black Mercedes Benz 560SL a few spots down.

This couldn't be good.

In a matter of seconds, he spotted both of his moms, his grandparents, and Whale. Hannah was nowhere in sight, despite her promise to return promptly at three, and to Henry's horror the adults seemed to spot him at the same time.

They all headed toward him at once as he descended the steps, but Emma reached him first. "Henry!" she exclaimed, worry etched in her features. "Have you seen Hannah?"

He could honestly say he hadn't seen her since that morning, so Henry shook his head. "No. Why? What's going on?"

"Dr. Whale came to pick up Hannah from school a few minutes early, and the office said Hannah never showed up."

That had to have been a last minute thing, since Hannah apparently had no expectation of anyone picking her up. Well, it was official – Hannah was screwed either way. Henry began to worry about the fact that Hannah had failed to show up. It was probably best to be honest with Emma about what he knew. Still, he'd promised not to tell, and Henry wanted to keep that promise the best he could.

"How is that possible?" Henry asked innocently as the others caught up. "She got off the bus right after I did this morning."

"Did Hannah say anything to you this morning?" Mary Margaret queried. "Anything at all that might help us figure out what happened?"

Henry had hoped he wouldn't be asked a direct question. Regina had become pretty good at recognizing when he was outright lying, and Emma had her 'superpower'. "Uh, no…" he said, hoping he sounded convincing enough. "She didn't say anything."

Both Emma and Regina were studying him intently, and he had a sinking feeling one of them suspected something. "Henry, do you know something?" Regina asked.

He tried to shake his head confidently. "I don't…"

The somewhat suspicious expression morphed into a stern look. "Tell us what you know right now, Henry."

Henry felt he owed it to Hannah to try his best to cover for her. "Mom, I…" he started to say, intending to continue to feign innocence, but Regina put on her best 'angry mom' face as she cut him off.

"Henry Daniel Mills."

Crap. He was now officially screwed as well. "Hannah didn't want to go to school this morning," he admitted with a sigh. "She said she needed a break."

"Henry!" Emma exclaimed. Henry thought the disappointment on her face just then was almost worse than whatever punishment Regina would come up with for his dishonesty. "Where did she go?"

Henry shifted uncomfortably. "I promised…"

"Where did she go?" Regina demanded, her gaze making it clear that defiance was not an option.

Out of options, Henry pointed across the street to the cluster of trees. "The woods."

"Dad, get a search party together," Emma said quickly as Mary Margaret, David, and Whale all started to talk at once. "I'm going to start looking for her." She gave Henry a look that she hoped expressed her displeasure – being the 'stern' parent wasn't really her forte. "You and I are going to talk later," she told him firmly before turning to jog across the street.

Knowing he was in a hell of a lot of trouble, Henry chanced a glance at Regina and instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry," he offered softly.

"'Sorry' doesn't excuse the fact that you put Hannah's life in danger today by keeping this secret," she told him. She wasn't sure why she was so concerned about Hannah – maybe it was regret for screwing up her childhood just because she was afraid of what would happen to the curse – but she was seriously disappointed in Henry over his choices that day. "You're grounded for a week," she informed him, "and if there's anything else we should know, you'd better tell me now, because if I find out later that you kept anything else a secret, being grounded will be the least of your worries."

* * *

Hours later, Hannah sat on the rocky bank of the river, watching the water flow. The reprieve from school had been nice, but she knew it was temporary. She couldn't possibly get away with missing school two days in a row. As she glanced at the treetops on the opposite side of the river, Hannah noticed the sky was no longer a bright light blue but now a brilliant rainbow of pink and purple, gold and crimson. Glancing at the watch David had given her days earlier, Hannah realized it was nearly six. Crap. Lost in her thoughts, she'd also lost track of time, and she'd missed the opportunity to head home right after school without anyone the wiser, other than Henry.

Maybe there was a chance they might not find out about her absence from school, but Hannah was sure they'd be less than pleased with her disappearance after school. Could she possibly come up with an excuse that would pacify them? Whatever it was, Henry would have to go along with it to work, and she doubted she'd have a chance to talk to him before she faced one of the adults.

Lost in her thoughts once more, Hannah didn't notice she was no longer alone until a voice startled her out of her musings.

"Hannah!"

Hannah shot to her feet and whirled around. "Emma!" she exclaimed, fighting to calm her racing heart. "You startled me. What are you doing here?"

Emma strode straight toward her and pulled her into a firm hug. "You scared the hell out of me, kid," admitted Emma. She moved her hands to grasp Hannah's shoulders and took a small step back so she could better see the girl. "Are you okay?"

There were so many ways she could answer that question, but Hannah opted for a slight nod. "How did you find me?"

She gave Hannah a pointed look. "I told you, Hannah. I will _always_ find you."

Hannah supposed she should have expected that response. She watched as Emma removed one hand from her shoulder and pulled out her cell phone, quickly dialing a number. She wondered at first who Emma was calling, but as she began to speak, it became abundantly clear.

"Dad? I've found Hannah. She's safe… We're down by the river, not far from the toll bridge, but I'm going to bring her back into town… Okay. I'll see you soon." Tucking her phone away, Emma turned her attention back to Hannah, her other hand still grasping the girl's shoulder. "So, you wanna tell me why you pulled a disappearing act today?"

The eleven-year-old considered Emma with a frown. "Are you going to scold me?"

"Hannah, I'm the least of your worries right now. Half a dozen people have spent the past two hours searching you, after we discovered that you never showed up at school this morning. We've been beside ourselves with worry, especially with the Snow Queen out there."

They knew she skipped school. It was official; she was royally screwed. Hannah had no interest in being lectured at the moment, so she muttered, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Your choice," Emma said easily. She knew the truth would come out eventually, so she wasn't going to pressure Hannah about it just yet. "I don't think Mary Margaret, David, or Whale is going to accept that answer, though, so sooner or later you're going to have to talk about it." Emma lifted Hannah's backpack from the ground and slung it over her shoulder. She then shifted so that she was beside Hannah, her hand on the girl's opposite shoulder. "Come on." Giving Hannah a gentle nudge, she began to propel her sister forward.

For several minutes, the only sound was the crunching of twigs and leaves beneath their feet. Hannah was determined not to say anything, and Emma chose not to pry. Hannah hoped Emma might act as a buffer with her parents – no matter how loving they'd been, she knew she was in deep trouble. She wasn't certain how her parents would respond, but she had an idea.

As she frowned in thought, a new voice broke the silence.

"Hannah…"

David rushed to his daughter and stepdaughter, pulling Hannah at once into a hug that caught the kid by surprise. "I'm so glad you're all right," he breathed, before releasing her from his embrace as the relief quickly morphed into frustration. "Do you have any idea how worried we've all been? What were you thinking, Hannah?"

Hannah blinked, temporarily blindsided. She hadn't expected such an emotional response from David, despite the fact that she knew he cared and she'd grown comfortable enough to stop calling him "Mr. Nolan". Once the shock wore off, she began to process the shift in David's demeanor. He was frowning at her, looking very much like an upset father, and Hannah didn't like the way it made her feel one bit. She knew she was going to get grief from her mom and dad, but for some reason she hadn't expected the same from David.

"I'm sorry I worried you…" she mumbled uncertainly.

David stepped back and folded his arms over his chest. "That wasn't an answer. What were you thinking, skipping school and disappearing into the woods with a dangerous villain on the loose?"

Her gaze dropped to the ground. She _really_ didn't like the stern expression on his face. "I don't want to talk about it," she said, repeating her words to Emma from minutes earlier.

"That isn't going to cut it, Hannah. Your mother, father, and I deserve an explanation."

She kept her eyes trained on her feet as she dug the toe of her shoe into the dark earth. She was sure he'd find her motives silly, and part of her hoped that David would drop the subject if she remained silent.

David stared at the top of Hannah's head, his frustration growing. He wanted to understand why the child had skipped school, and he wanted to understand why she'd chosen to remain hidden even after school was over. She'd seen the damage Ingrid could do – Marian was a prime example – and yet she'd blatantly put herself in danger by being out in the forest alone with Ingrid on the loose. If it had been Emma, and Emma were Hannah's age, David wouldn't have hesitated to plant himself on the nearest tree stump and haul her over his knee, but as much as David loved Hannah, Hannah already had a mom and a dad who were more than capable of handling the situation. He wouldn't hesitate to step forward if for whatever reason one or both of them were unable to take care of it, but for the time being, he needed to let them take the lead.

Reaching out, he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Your mom and dad are waiting," he said.

Grateful for the reprieve, however brief, Hannah allowed Emma to guide her once more. If she were truly honest with herself, she'd admit that she had no idea where she was going. She might have spent the night in the forest if Emma hadn't found her. Her stomach was already reminding her that she hadn't eaten in hours, and Hannah didn't exactly know how to find anything edible among the endless trees.

After a couple of minutes, Hannah could begin to see the outlines of buildings just past the trees. They were getting closer to town. Her anxiety skyrocketed. What was she going to say to her parents? Mary Margaret would likely still be at home with the baby, but she had a feeling her dad had been a part of the search. Considering how Emma and David had reacted, she imagined Whale wouldn't be any more pleased with her than the others had been. She wasn't sure she was ready to face his disappointment.

As they reached the edge of the forest, Hannah easily spotted her father. He was talking to someone on the sidewalk; half a second later, Hannah realized that someone was her mother. A bundle was in the woman's arms – baby Neal, Hannah assumed. Her stomach plummeted at the realization that she was about to face both of her parents at once. Hannah wondered if she had a chance of making a run for it back into the forest before David or Emma stopped her. She was fast, but she had no idea how fast the others were.

"I'd catch you in seconds," a voice whispered in her ear.

Twisting her neck, Hannah stared wide-eyed at Emma. "How do you _do_ that?"

"My secret," Emma said. "Running will only make things worse anyway."

She turned back at the exact moment her parents noticed her. Mary Margaret began to walk toward them, careful not to trip while carrying Neal. Whale, however, had no such reservations, and sprinted across the grass to where Hannah was now rooted. She briefly wondered just how upset he was with her, but she didn't have time to analyze his facial expression as he immediately pulled her into his arms, hugging her to him. She felt him sigh, and it occurred to her just how worried he must have been. She didn't completely regret her decision to skip school, but she did feel bad for stressing her parents.

Whale embraced her longer than Emma or David had, but when he finally released her he moved his hands to grasp Hannah's shoulders just as Emma had earlier. "Are you hurt?" he demanded, his voice thick with emotion.

Hannah shook her head wordlessly.

A hand wrapped around her arm. Before Hannah knew what was happening, another hand landed twice on her butt, hard. "OW!" she screeched. She threw her hands behind her at once, both to protect her backside and to try to rub out the sting, but Whale grasped her arms, preventing her from rubbing, as he crouched down so they were face to face.

"Do you have _any_ idea how _scared_ your mother and I have been since I went to pick you up early and we discovered you weren't at school all day?" he demanded, watching tears pool in her eyes, he imagined both from the impressive swats he'd just delivered and his stern tone. How could she have disappeared like that so soon after her trip to the Enchanted Forest, and while an evil witch was on the loose, no less? "What the hell were you thinking, Hannah Victoria?"

Hannah choked back a sob, and at once Whale pulled her back into his arms, holding her tight. He forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out, allowing some of the fear and frustration to leave his body. She was safe. He and Mary Margaret would make damned sure Hannah never even thought of pulling such a stunt again, but Hannah was okay, and that was what mattered most at the moment.

Mary Margaret reached the group just then, and as she handed baby Neal to David, Whale released his hold on Hannah so that Mary Margaret could pull her into her arms.

"You have no idea…" she started to tell Hannah, but she felt herself choking up over her own words, so she simply hugged Hannah tighter as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Hannah offered in a small, tearful voice.

"You _cannot_ scare me like that, Hannah Victoria," Mary Margaret murmured in her younger daughter's ear. "Do you hear me? _You cannot scare me like that_."

Hannah nodded frantically as her own tears soaked the front of Mary Margaret's sweater.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN:** I feel bad that FF was having issues last night and that people had to wait so long to read the chapter (The responses I woke to this morning, though, were amazing! Thank you!). So, I'm going to go ahead and post this now. It should answer a lot of questions people had regarding the direction this story is going.

I want to add in that Hannah is still dealing with her jealousy over Neal, and her newfound jealousy over Emma's relationship with Hook, but neither of those are going to come to a head... yet.

* * *

The ride home had been tense. She'd sat silently in the back seat of her father's car as he drove her to the Blanchard/Nolan apartment, and within minutes of reaching their destination she'd found herself seated on the sofa with four highly displeased adults staring at her, demanding to know why she'd pulled such a stunt.

She couldn't tell them. She couldn't bring herself to admit that she was bored at school or that she felt lonely. Honestly, she didn't think they'd find her reasons to be very good excuses for disappearing like that anyway. It was better to let them be mad and punish her, she decided, and hopefully they wouldn't be upset with her anymore after that.

After ten minutes of refusing to talk, she'd been sent to her 'room' with the promise that her mother or father would be up shortly. That had been nearly fifteen minutes ago, and now Hannah was seated cross-legged on the bed, wondering just how bad it was going to be

Just then, footsteps could be heard on the stairs, and Hannah scooted back against the headboard, hugging her knees to her chest. After her escapade in the Enchanted Forest, she had no doubts about how her parents would deal with her disappearance that day. The only thing she wasn't sure of was whether it would be her mom or dad coming up those stairs. The sudden appearance of lighter blonde hair caught her off guard.

"Emma?" she asked in confusion as her sister stepped into the room. There was no way _Emma_ was about to punish her, particularly in the way she expected her parents would. "I thought Mom or Dad… I mean, you're not…"

"I'm not here to punish you," Emma agreed as she sat on the bed facing Hannah and pulled her feet toward her torso, sitting cross-legged. The words felt weird coming from her mouth, but she still hadn't completely come to terms with being a disciplinarian with Henry. Before New York, she'd left the discipline up to Regina. Even while in New York, she had only grounded Henry once, and it had been for two days. Thinking back to what Henry had done at that time, she imagined Regina would have grounded the kid for at least a full week, if not longer. The only reason she said anything now was because she knew what Hannah was expecting from her parents and Emma couldn't really say the kid was mistaken. "I'm here to get you to talk about today, so start talking."

"What's there to talk about?" Hannah asked with a shrug. "I didn't feel like going to school so I didn't."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "You know I'm not going to buy that crap you gave Mom, Dad, and Whale," she said bluntly. "I know there is more to this than you just not feeling like going to school."

Turning her head, Hannah stared at the wall. "I don't know what to tell you."

Emma let out a frustrated sigh. She hadn't expected Hannah to keep the walls up with her. There had to be some way to get through to her little sister. Maybe she could play on her sympathy for others. "Did you know Henry's in trouble because of your disappearing act?"

That caught Hannah's attention at once. "What?" she asked, jerking her head back to stare wide-eyed at Emma. "How? It isn't his fault I played hooky."

"Perhaps, but he knew you were skipping school, he knew the Snow Queen was still a threat, and yet he told no one," the blonde pointed out. "Even after school, when you were nowhere to be found, he didn't say anything until Regina realized he was hiding something. She grounded him for a week."

Hannah shook her head in frustration. "That's not fair," she protested. "He was just protecting me."

"That might have been his intention, but in this case, keeping your secret wasn't protecting you. It put you in danger." Emma paused, giving her words a chance to sink in. "Considering what Henry did for you, don't you think you owe it to him to be honest about why you did it?"

The eleven-year-old exhaled loudly. "What does it matter? I'm screwed either way."

"Oh, you're definitely in a lot of trouble." She watched Hannah frown. She was sure the kid knew as much already, but it probably didn't help hearing someone else vocalize it. "I can't do anything to change that, and honestly, I wouldn't if I could." Emma had never been a proponent of spanking. It had taken her a week after she and Mary Margaret had returned from the Enchanted Forest not long after the first curse broke to forgive David for spanking Henry in her absence, despite the fact that the kid had been reckless. Then, she'd discovered that Regina employed the same consequence from time to time with Henry, and although she grudgingly had to admit that Henry didn't seem like he'd been scarred by the experience, she still didn't approve. She could never imagine punishing Henry or Hannah that way, but at this point, maybe it was what Hannah needed. Emma still wasn't completely comfortable with the idea, but she wouldn't interfere. "You scared the hell out of all of us today, Hannah, and you need to understand that you can't go pulling a stunt like that again."

"I don't like when you scold me," Hannah admitted softly, squirming a bit under Emma's penetrating gaze.

Emma shook her head. "I haven't begun to scold you, kid. If you don't start talking about whatever's going on with you, though…"

Hannah wasn't sure what Emma would say if she continued being secretive about her motivations, but she really didn't want to test her. "I don't like school."

The corner of Emma's mouth curved up in half-amusement over Hannah's statement of the obvious. "I think we all know at this point that you don't like school, Hannah. We want to know _why_ you don't like it."

"Some kids just don't like school," Hannah replied with a shrug. "Do I have to have a reason?"

"Yes," Emma said knowingly. "I've seen how much you read, and Mom told me you were reading Henry's science book for fun the night the power went out. I also happen to know you've been helping Henry with his math. I think…"

She couldn't believe it! He'd promised not to tell. "He told you?" Hannah demanded, cutting off Emma's next words.

Hannah's sudden reaction surprised Emma. Henry hadn't said a word – Emma had seen them working together when they thought no one else was looking, which had seemed strange but she hadn't questioned it at the time – but she wasn't sure why the idea that Henry might have mentioned it to her upset Hannah so much. "Henry didn't say anything," Emma said, carefully observing Hannah for any clue that might shed some light on the situation. "I saw you two studying together a couple of times. Why does the thought of Henry telling someone you're helping him with his schoolwork bother you so much?"

"He just promised he wouldn't," Hannah said, looking away.

"Hannah, you seem like the type of kid who loves school," Emma continued what she'd been about to say before she was interrupted. "You certainly love to read, and I can tell that you're bright. What's going on?" She waited for a response, but Hannah said nothing; the kid wouldn't even look at her. "Hannah," she tried again. Nothing. She was nearly at her wit's end. Clearly Hannah's issues with school ran deeper than the kid wanted to admit, but no one could do a damn thing about it if she wouldn't open up. If Mary Margaret or David or Whale were up there, Emma was sure Hannah would already be over someone's knee. She wasn't about to do the same, but Hannah might not realize that, and as she recalled Hannah's admission that she didn't like Emma scolding her, the woman wondered if perhaps getting a little tougher with Hannah might do the trick.

" _Hannah Victoria_ ," she said sharply, masking her amazement as Hannah's eyes snapped to meet hers, a sliver of worry in the kid's gaze. Hoping both her expression and tone were appropriately stern, Emma continued, " _Talk to me._ "

Hannah's eyes glistened. "I'm bored," she whispered, trying not to cry. "I'm bored all day in class, and then I'm bored at lunch and recess because I don't have any friends."

Emma recalled how hard it had been for her to make friends growing up, and she wondered if Hannah's experiences in the foster system had had the same effect on her. She could understand why the loneliness would make Hannah want to avoid school, and it was definitely something the others needed to know about. "Hannah, why didn't you say something sooner?" she asked, softening her tone.

The kid shrugged a shoulder as she stared at her lap. "You've all been busy, dealing with the Snow Queen, and Mom's especially busy with the baby. I didn't want to be a bother."

"Hey." Reaching out, Emma placed a finger under Hannah's chin, guiding it up so she could see Hannah's face. "You are _never_ a bother, and not a single person in this family is too busy to talk to you. If you're having problems at school, any problems at all, we need to know so that we can help. Have the other kids been mean?"

"No. They just don't talk to me unless we're doing group work."

"Have you tried talking to any of them at lunch or recess?"

Hannah shook her head vigorously.

"Why not?" Emma pressed.

"What if think I'm weird?" the girl worried, biting her lip. "What if they tell me to get lost?"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "What if they're intimidated because you actually grew up in this land and know more about it than they do? What if they're worried that _you_ are going to think _they_ are weird?"

The thought had never occurred to Hannah. In fact, the very idea that these kids might be intimidated by _her_ was ridiculous as far as she was concerned.

"Not likely," she muttered.

"Try talking to someone tomorrow," suggested Emma. "Maybe just ask if you can sit with them at lunch. If it doesn't go well, we'll talk after school and see what we can come up with. Whatever happens, though, I want your word that you'll come straight to me or someone else in this family if you have any more problems or concerns at school. Deal?"

She didn't think Emma's suggestions would help, but Hannah supposed she could give them a try anyway. "Deal," Hannah agreed reluctantly.

"Now, maybe you could explain what you mean when you say that you're bored in class."

Hannah had wanted to avoid this conversation completely, but she supposed there was no way around it now. "I'm bored," she repeated. "Everything we're doing is really easy and I finish it in, like, five minutes. Then I end up doing my homework in class, which is so easy it's dull. When I finish that, I have to find a way to make it look like I'm working so I don't attract any attention, because everyone will think I'm a freak if they realize I finish my work that quickly. Sometimes we work in groups, and then I can't finish my work quickly because I have to work with the other kids, and it's downright torturous."

While everyone in the family had noticed Hannah was bright, Emma didn't think any of them had realized just how bright the kid really was. It sounded like she needed to be challenged. "Have you told your teacher? Maybe ask her for something else to work on when you're finished with the assignment?"

"That would attract attention," Hannah reminded her, remembering the book that Miss Kirkland had confiscated the day before. No one else had seemed to notice that she'd been reading it, and Hannah was eternally grateful that Miss Kirkland hadn't made a scene when she'd taken it from Hannah. "I really don't want to be the fifth grade freak."

"I don't want you ever refer to yourself as a freak again," Emma said, giving her sister a pointed look. "Your teacher isn't a mind reader, kid. You have to talk to her, just like you have to talk to us."

Hannah sighed. "So you're basically saying I need to talk to people."

She realized it was a bit hypocritical, telling her sister to open up when Emma herself frequently put up walls, but perhaps she could save Hannah from sucking as much at relationships. "Yeah," Emma said with a small smile. "You need to talk to people. Might have prevented this mess you're in if you had."

"All right…" Hannah sighed. She stared at the stairs briefly before glancing back at Emma. "I don't suppose you could convince Mom and Dad to go easy on me?"

Emma reached out to ruffle Hannah's hair. "Nope. You screwed up, kid. You've got to deal with the consequences."

Hannah leaned her head back against the wall with a dramatic sigh. "This sucks."

"I know," Emma said, offering an understanding smile. She squeezed Hannah's hand comfortingly. "You'll be all right. I'm going to go downstairs and tell the others what you told me about how you've been feeling." Emma watched Hannah frown. "Everyone is worried about you, kid," she explained. "Trust me, it will help for them to understand why you acted the way you did."

* * *

Several excruciatingly long minutes passed before Hannah heard footsteps ascending the stairs once more. She bit her lip, wondering who she'd see this time. The moment she saw the top of their head, she sighed. Her butt was toast.

"So, you're my executioner, huh?" she mumbled from her bed.

Whale quirked an eyebrow as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed so they were eye level. "You're getting a spanking, not a beheading," he said wryly. "Emma told us what you told her, that you're feeling lonely and bored at school. Why didn't you say anything earlier, Hannah?"

Hannah shrugged her shoulders. "Everyone's been busy. I didn't want to bother anyone."

"You're my number one priority, kiddo," Whale told her seriously. "You won't ever bother me by telling me when something's going on. Your mom and David and Emma and I, we can't fix it if we don't know about it."

It was similar to what Emma had said. "Emma said I need to talk to people."

"She's right." Whale took a good look at his daughter and sighed. She looked positively miserable, and he didn't relish the task before him. He would have much preferred to leave it up to Mary Margaret, since she'd already had to discipline Hannah in such a manner, but he knew it was cowardice on his part. He didn't want to have to be the one to make Hannah cry.

Just looking at her, he could tell Hannah needed comfort first. Frankly, so did he. "Come here, kiddo," he said, opening his arms to her.

She didn't have to be told twice. Hannah scooted over and wrapped her arms around his chest. His arms were warm as they surrounded her; leaning her head on his chest, Hannah closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh.

He rested his chin on her head. "I'm sorry you've been so unhappy at school, Hannah," he said in earnest. "We're going to do everything we can to fix that." They sat in silence for nearly a minute before Whale slowly pulled back so he could see Hannah. "Do you understand why you're in trouble?"

The last thing she wanted to do was go over her list of transgressions, but Hannah knew she wasn't going to be able to weasel out of it. "I skipped school and went into the woods by myself," she admitted. "It was especially unsafe because the Snow Queen is out there and no one knew where I was."

"You shouldn't have asked Henry to lie for you either," Whale added. "He ultimately made his own choice and is responsible for that, but it wasn't right of you to ask him to do something like that."

Standing, Whale crossed the room and retrieved a wooden chair, setting it down half way to the bed and taking a seat. He didn't miss the way Hannah's brow furrowed and her lips turned into a perfect pout. "Come here, Hannah," he said calmly.

Hannah made no move to leave the bed. "Can't you ground me instead? Being grounded is just as awful of a punishment…"

"Nope. Knowingly putting yourself in harm's way will always result in a spanking. It's not negotiable. You might want to remember that in the future. Come here."

"Dad…" she whined softly.

"Hannah Victoria."

Though he hadn't raised his voice, Hannah could hear the warning in her father's tone. Sighing pitifully, she slid off the bed and approached him like she was approaching the gallows.

Whale gently grasped Hannah's arm and guided her over his lap. The kid wriggled a bit, but made no attempt to get up. Knowing that wasn't going to last long as she wasn't going to like what he was about to do, Whale steeled himself before reaching over and flipping up the back of her school skirt.

As he had predicted, Hannah shrieked. "Dad, no!" she protested, reaching back to try to fix her skirt.

He caught her hand with ease and moved it to her side, using his arm to hold her in place. Satisfied that she wasn't going anywhere, he raised his hand and brought it down sharply on her bottom.

Hannah had tried hard not to make a fuss when her mom had spanked her for leaving Granny's and following Emma through a portal to the Enchanted Forest, but she had no such reservations now. She wriggled, kicked, whined, and cried as Whale continued to pepper her backside with stinging smacks. He wasn't swatting quite as hard as he had earlier, but it still stung more than it had with her mom. Hannah wasn't sure whether that was because her dad had a hard hand or because she had one less layer of clothing as protection, but right then she really didn't care. She just wanted it to stop.

"I don't want to have to repeat this lesson anytime soon, Hannah, so I want you to listen carefully," Whale told her. He swatted the undercurve of her bottom, catching where her bottom met her thigh. Her protests instantly rose in volume. "Skipping school is unacceptable." He swatted the exact same spot a second time. "I know your mother discussed this with you last time, but we need to know where you are at _all times_." He swatted the undercurve on the other side twice in a row. He could hear genuine crying from Hannah now, and felt grateful that he was almost finished because he didn't think he could listen to the sound of her tears much longer knowing that he was the cause, no matter how well deserved the punishment. "You will stay out of the forest while the Snow Queen is on the loose unless you are with an adult." Two hard swats, one on each side, and Hannah gave up fighting. "Are we clear, Hannah Victoria?"

Hannah couldn't seem to form a single word, much less a sentence, but she nodded her head as best as she could. At once, she felt herself lifted off of Whale's lap and onto her feet.

Whale pulled her into his arms and held her as she cried. He felt like the biggest jerk in the world, and briefly wondered if Mary Margaret had felt the same way after Hannah had gone through the time portal. He'd done the right thing, he was sure of it, and yet at that moment he was willing to promise Hannah _anything_ if it would end her tears.

"I'm sorry…" he heard her murmur into his shirt as she slowly began to calm down.

"I know," Whale assured her. "You're forgiven, and you're very much loved."

She shook her head in disagreement. "Everyone's mad at me."

"Nobody here is mad at you." Grasping Hannah's shoulders gently, Whale nudged her just far enough back so he could see her face. He felt ten times worse seeing her splotchy, tear-stained face. "Hold on," he told her, letting go of her long enough to stand and retrieve a handful of tissues from the dresser. Handing the tissues to Hannah, he gave her a chance to blow her nose while he returned the chair to its previous position. Then, with a hand on her shoulder, he guided Hannah over to the bed, sitting on the edge before motioning for her to sit beside him.

Hannah sat down carefully.

"Your mom and David and Emma and I, we were all so worried about you. When I went to pick you up from school and discovered you never even showed up? I was terrified, Hannah. I had no idea where you were or what had happened or if you were in danger. I know it might have seemed like we were mad, because we were being very stern, but I promise you we were never angry with you. Your mother and I were a little disappointed that you didn't come and talk to us sooner about what was going on." Whale raised an eyebrow. "I know I asked you what was going on more than once." Blushing, Hannah lowered her gaze. She'd hoped he'd forgotten about that. "I'm not angry, but in the future I need you to be honest with me."

She peeked up at him through damp eyelashes. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

Leaning over, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for another hug. "No more apologies," Whale said gently. He felt her shoulders tense. "They won't be upset with you. In fact, I'm willing to bet they're going to fuss about how I was too hard on you."

Hannah couldn't even imagine such a thing. "When I went to the Enchanted Forest, Mom… she…" She couldn't bring herself to acknowledge out loud how her mother had dealt with her behavior then, especially when she didn't even know if her dad knew about it.

"It's different when you're not the one who has to be the bad guy," Whale said with a soft smile. "Come on. Let's go downstairs and I'll prove it."

She still didn't really believe him, but she hadn't eaten since breakfast and her stomach was rumbling. The aroma from dinner cooking downstairs was too much for her to ignore, so Hannah allowed Whale to pull her to her feet and nudge her toward the stairs.

* * *

"Mary Margaret!"

Mary Margaret smiled at the petite young woman as she stepped into her daughter's classroom the following morning. "Jodi," she said warmly in greeting, hugging her old colleague. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," Miss Kirkland replied. She offered the men behind Mary Margaret a smile. "Nice to see you again Mr. Nolan, Dr. Whale. Thank you for coming in."

David and Whale followed Mary Margaret into the room, and the four adults sat at a nearby table.

"I am so sorry about Hannah's absence yesterday," Mary Margaret rushed to apologize, although she wasn't sure why she felt the need to do so. She felt nervous – not because of what her friend might say, but because Neal was at home with Belle, who had agreed to watch her while they attending the conference. Mary Margaret had wanted to bring Neal – being separated from him was painful, and it was worse when she knew David wasn't with him either. Her greatest fear was that she'd lose him, just as she'd lost Emma and Hannah for so long. However, David had insisted that they needed to 'focus on Hannah' that morning, and Mary Margaret couldn't argue against that. "I don't know what got into her."

Miss Kirkland shook her head. "No apologies necessary. I was actually going to ask you to come in for a conference anyway."

Mary Margaret frowned in concern, and Whale and David adopted similar expressions. "She hasn't been giving you any trouble in class, has she?" Whale asked. He hoped that wasn't the case, as he wasn't sure he had the heart to have another discussion with Hannah about her behavior so soon.

"Oh, no… not at all!" exclaimed the fifth grade teacher. It was the furthest from the truth, and she didn't want to give any of the adults the wrong impression. "Hannah is a dream to have in class. She's polite, she follows directions the first time they're given, and she completes any assignments I give her. I know it's only been a week, but I promise you, Dr. Whale, I would have contacted you and Mary Margaret sooner had there been any issues with Hannah's behavior."

That was a small relief. "You must have some concerns, though," Mary Margaret prodded.

The young teacher nodded. "Hannah has been keeping to herself since her first day. I haven't noticed her talking to any of the other kids outside of class. In fact, she's spent most of her lunch and recess time reading the past week. I've been watching carefully to make sure no one is giving her a hard time, but I haven't seen any teasing or malice from the other kids."

"Hannah said she's been feeling lonely," Mary Margaret agreed. "She seems to be worried about them not liking her. We tried to encourage her to talk to just one person today and see how that person reacts. I don't know if she's going to actually listen, though."

"I'll continue to keep a close eye on the situation and keep you updated," Miss Kirkland assured her. "However, that wasn't the only thing I wanted to discuss with you. I'm sure you've noticed that Hannah is a bright child."

Mary Margaret smiled softly. "She told Emma last night that she finishes her classwork in minutes. Hannah never works on homework at home, but she's able to show us that it's complete when we ask. She always says she gets it done in class."

"Hannah is not exaggerating," Miss Kirkland said as she stood and headed for her desk. "She finishes her classwork and homework in record time when she's working independently, and it's always flawless. We took a test Thursday last week on multiplying and dividing fractions. Hannah earned a perfect score, despite having missed most of the unit." Standing, Miss Kirkland headed for her desk. "She tries to hide the fact that she's finished early, but I caught her reading this in class the other day." The teacher extracted a large, hardcover book from the top drawer and carried it back to the other adults so they had a better view. "I wasn't upset with her for reading something when she'd already finished all the work I'd given her, but I did want to hold onto it until I had a chance to show you."

Surprised, Whale reached out to gently slide the book closer to him. "This is one of my medical books from my office," he said, torn between frustration that Hannah had taken something without asking and amazement over the fact that his eleven-year-old was reading a professional text. "I didn't realize Hannah had it."

Miss Kirkland understood his awe. "With your consent, I'd like to conduct some testing to find out exactly what level Hannah is on in each subject. In the very least, it will allow me to better customize the curriculum for her so she doesn't continue to be as bored as I imagine she has been. If the tests show that Hannah is as advanced as I believe her to be, I'd like to consider having her enter advanced classes next school year when she goes to middle school, perhaps as a seventh grader instead of a sixth grader."

Mary Margaret took a deep breath as she processed everything. Of course she'd known Hannah was bright, but it hadn't occurred to her just how bright Hannah was – and as a teacher, Mary Margaret felt she _should_ have noticed that, even if her teaching degree had been manufactured by a curse. It made complete sense now why Hannah was so bored at school. She needed to be academically challenged, and that hadn't happened so far. Mary Margaret wasn't sure how she felt about Hannah skipping a year, but she suspected that was mostly because she'd missed so much of Hannah's childhood already and couldn't bear the thought of her growing up any faster than necessary.

Managing a smile, she nodded quickly. "Of course you have our consent to conduct any academic testing you feel necessary."


	17. Chapter 17

**AN:** I know this chapter is short, but it didn't feel right adding anything else to it.

* * *

The last thing Hannah expected as she stepped onto the sidewalk that stretched in front of Storybrooke's only two schools was to see Emma's yellow bug parked in front of the secondary school building, Emma leaning casually against the hood. Her bus was in the opposite direction, but Hannah immediately made a beeline for her sister. "Emma!" she exclaimed when she reached her, smiling as Emma pushed herself away from the car to greet Hannah with a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"You're looking in much better spirits today," observed Emma. "Did you have a good day?"

Hannah's day had been the best she'd had since starting school, but she wasn't sure she wanted to admit that, lest Emma pull out some version of an 'I told you so'. She'd spent a good portion of her day taking tests. Miss Kirkland had suggested she take it easy and not overwork herself – insisting she could complete the tests over several days – but once Hannah had seen one of the tests, she didn't want to stop. A lot of the questions were easy, but some had actually made her think. For the first time, she hadn't had to spend the better part of the day pretending to work after finishing both her classwork and homework.

She hadn't felt brave enough to try to talk to any of the other kids at lunch, but she'd happened to look up as one of the girls in her class was walking by and she'd managed a sliver of a smile. To Hannah's surprise, the girl had stopped and sat across from Hannah for all of lunch. Her name was Rachel, Hannah had learned, and her family was new to Storybrooke, having only come over with the second curse.

All in all, it had been a good day.

"It was okay," Hannah said noncommittally. "So what are you doing here?"

Emma smiled. "I'm here to pick up Henry."

"Oh." She knew she shouldn't be jealous – Henry was Emma's son and of course Emma would want to spend time with him, and it wasn't as if Emma hadn't spent one-on-one time with Hannah – but she couldn't help feeling a little hurt at not being included. "Okay. I guess I'll see you later then…" she mumbled. Hannah turned around and put her foot in front of her to head for her bus, but a hand on her shoulder stilled her.

"It isn't like that," Emma said gently as she turned Hannah back around. "Henry is staying with Regina while he's grounded, and I need to talk to him for a few minutes, so I'm driving him home."

Hannah tried to act like it wasn't a big deal, shrugging her shoulders. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

Emma chuckled at the kid's attempt to act casual. "I do, because I know you're feeling a little bit left out right now. Listen, I'll be home before dinner, and then you can tell me all about your day that I'm sure was more than just 'okay'. Deal?"

Just as Hannah nodded in agreement, she heard a voice behind her. "Mom?"

Henry stepped off the curb to join the two.

"Hi there, kid," Emma said. "I thought I'd drive you home this afternoon."

Hannah took the opportunity to step back awkwardly onto the sidewalk. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Henry," she told the boy before walking off toward the bus.

"What about Hannah?" Henry asked, watching Hannah's retreating figure in confusion. He knew he was grounded, but he didn't think that precluded him from being able to ride in the same car as Hannah, and it was a little odd that Emma wouldn't drive both of them home at once.

"I wanted to talk to you alone for a few minutes," Emma explained, moving to open the driver's side door. "Hop in and we'll get going."

Henry circled the car, slipping into the front passenger seat as he pondered what exactly Emma wanted to talk about. He instantly remembered Emma's promise from the prior afternoon that they would "talk" later, but he'd shrugged that off not long after Emma had taken off after Hannah. Unlike Regina, Emma had never been a strict parent, and since Regina had taken charge in regards to his punishment, he hadn't expected to hear anything more about it from his birth mother. Was Emma going to talk about what had happened with Hannah, or was there something else going on?

"What's up?" he asked as casually as he dared once Emma had started the car.

Glancing over at her son, Emma arched an eyebrow. She knew what he was doing. It was partially her fault that he thought she might drop the matter, despite her promise that they would talk, but she was going to slash that assumption of his quick. "You know what's up."

One look at Emma's expression confirmed Henry's suspicions. Sighing, he sunk a bit into the seat. "I'm sorry."

"What exactly are you sorry for?" Emma questioned curiously as she pulled out onto the road.

Henry stared at the scenery passing by. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before that Hannah had skipped school and went into the woods," he said honestly. "I had promised her I wouldn't say anything, and I was trying to keep that promise."

"That was a dangerous promise to make. Hannah could have been hurt at any time yesterday, and no one would have known where she was. Then, there's the little matter of the Snow Queen, who could have killed Hannah with a flick of her wrist. I know you know how dangerous the Snow Queen is, Henry, so I'm a little disappointed that you thought keeping a promise was more important than helping to keep Hannah safe."

Henry felt worse than he had after Regina's lecture – which had been impressive, considering he was convinced, given the circumstances, that Regina didn't even _like_ Hannah – hearing Emma profess her disappointment. He swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. "I'm _really_ sorry, Mom," he said softly.

"I'm sure Regina had a lot to say about your behavior yesterday." She paused to give Henry a pointed look, watching in satisfaction as he squirmed just a bit. "That being said, I'm willing to drop the subject if I have your word that you won't make any more promises that could put anyone in danger, Hannah or otherwise."

It was a promise he didn't have to think twice about. "I promise I won't," he readily agreed.

Reaching over, Emma squeezed Henry's shoulder. "Good. In that case, I'm done lecturing you. So, tell me about school…"

* * *

Lost in her thoughts as she approached the bus, Hannah didn't hear her name being called until a hand touched her shoulder, startling her out of her reverie. Jumping, Hannah spun around to stare up at her father's concerned face.

"Are you all right?"

Hannah nodded as she took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart. "I didn't see you there. What are you doing here?"

"I thought I would pick you up this afternoon. You can tell me all about your day over Granny's ice cream sundaes."

"Everyone wants to know about my day," Hannah said with a twinge of frustration. "You… Emma… I'm sure Mom will ask too."

Reaching out, Whale wrapped an arm around Hannah's shoulders. "Of course we want to know about your day. We love you. No one wants you to be miserable at school."

She shrugged one shoulder. "Today wasn't miserable," she admitted.

"That's a step in the right direction. Come on. I have it on good authority that you _love_ ice cream."

A hint of a smile played on her lips. "You might not be wrong about that…"

* * *

Hannah stood on the sidewalk, staring at the blue square building. She'd discovered that Henry had taken a part-time job working at Mr. Gold's shop, and while she couldn't go visit Henry at Regina's house while he was grounded, but Regina had no control over whether or not Hannah visited the pawn shop. She had yet to meet Mr. Gold, but Hannah knew from Henry that he was Rumplestiltskin. She also knew that he was Henry's grandfather (talk about twisted fairy tales!), so her curiosity was doubled.

Reaching for the knob on the strikingly red door, she took a careful step inside the building as the bell above the door signaled her arrival. The room was dim, from the low lights to the stone-colored walls to the dark tapestries and wallpaper to the rich wood floors, shelves, and display cases. There were familiar and strange objects _everywhere_.

She spotted Henry immediately. He was standing behind a display case, wiping down the glass top with what she guessed was glass cleaner. "Hi Henry."

The twelve-year-old looked up in surprise. "Hannah? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Hannah replied as she approached the counter, "and I'm not allowed at your other house while you're grounded. Mom said I could hang out in town as long as I'm home by six." She let her eyes roam around the room. "There's so much stuff in this place…"

"I'm glad you're here," admitted Henry. "I've been meaning to ask how you're doing, and I don't ever have time at school."

Hannah couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You were worried about me? You're the one under house arrest for five more days. Speaking of that… I'm really sorry I got you into trouble, Henry. I shouldn't have asked you to cover for me like that."

Henry shook his head. "It was my choice. I could have said no. Mom definitely wasn't happy… neither was Emma, for that matter. I can count on one hand the number of times she's scolded me for something. I'm fine though, I promise. Working here helps to break up the monotony. Was everyone terribly mad at you?"

" _Scared_ , they said," Hannah said. "End result was the same as if they'd been mad, I suppose."

"You aren't grounded, though," clarified Henry.

"No." Hannah blushed a little over the memory of that night. She wasn't sure she wanted to come out and admit how she'd been punished – there was a strong chance that Henry didn't have to deal with such consequences, and therefore she was a little embarrassed by the thought of him knowing. "They made their displeasure abundantly clear, though."

A knowing look crossed Henry's face. "I get it. If I had done something similar, I would have been sleeping on my stomach that night after my mom was through with me."

Realizing that Henry was in the same boat, Hannah let out a sigh of relief. She opened her mouth to reply, but a man entered stepped through a set of curtains at that moment, joining them. He was a bit lanky, dressed in a sharp suit, with dark eyes and ash brown hair that fell just above his shoulders. He walked with a cane but still managed to exude an abundance of confidence and power.

Henry spoke first. "Grandpa, this is…"

"…Hannah," Gold said, finishing Henry's sentence for him. "I had wondered when I might finally meet you."

"Mr. Gold?" Hannah guessed. She felt a little unnerved that this man already knew who she was, but she tried to reassure herself that it was just because Storybrooke was a small town and her mother was kind of a big deal. In books and movies, everyone knew everyone and everything in small towns.

Gold gave a small nod. "The one and only." He smiled in a way that made Hannah suspect he was privy to many secrets. "How are you enjoying Storybrooke?"

"Everyone seems really nice," she observed.

"It really is fortunate that you made your way back to Storybrooke, Hannah Stevens."

Hannah felt her jaw drop in shock. She hadn't told _anyone_ in Storybrooke her last name – not her parents, not Henry, not even Emma. It had become a moot point after she'd found her parents, and at school she was registered as Hannah Blanchard, the name on her birth certificate. Her dad and Emma had been adamant about making sure the authorities knew about the Flints, but to Hannah's knowledge that had yet to happen. With everything that had happened in the short amount of time, she suspected the issue had been forgotten.

That said, how had he gotten a hold of her adopted name? Was this Mr. Gold a threat? He couldn't possibly tear her away from her family, could he?

"How…?"

"I have a… penchant… for names," Gold explained, that same knowing look on his face as if he knew a secret she didn't. "There's no need to worry. I assure you, I have no intention of facilitating a reunion between you and your previous guardians. I'd hate for you not to realize your full potential."

"My full potential…?" she repeated, more confused than ever. "What do you mean?"

"All in due time. It was very nice to meet you, Hannah. I'm sure we will cross paths again soon." Giving Hannah another small nod, Gold turned toward his grandson. "Henry, you're free to go as soon as you've finished cleaning the glass cases."

The pair watched Gold retreat back through the curtains. Hannah turned to Henry, ready to ask him what Mr. Gold had been talking about, when Henry mouthed the word 'later' and tilted his head in the direction Mr. Gold had gone. She nodded in understanding. Their conversation wasn't private.

"Let me finish up here, and we can walk part of the way home together," he told her.


	18. Chapter 18

"I don't need a babysitter."

Mary Margaret mustered a smile for Hannah. She wanted nothing more than to stay home with Neal, but David wasn't letting her off the hook. She couldn't let Hannah know she didn't really want to go. "I know you don't," she said, placating the girl. Honestly, she didn't particularly feel comfortable leaving Hannah alone at night either, given she was only eleven, but Hannah didn't need to know that just then. "Neal does need a babysitter, though, so Belle's coming to take care of him while David and I go out for a little bit. She'll be here in case you need her, but she won't hover."

The eleven-year-old was half tempted to offer herself as Neal's caregiver. It wasn't as if she didn't have experience – she'd been caring for infants in her foster homes off and on since she was seven. She knew how to feed them, change them, rock them to sleep… She'd done a decent job with those babies, too, until the next to last home, when her nine month old foster brother had swallowed a toy one of the younger foster kids had left on the ground. It hadn't been her fault, but she had been blamed anyway, and after being berated and belittled for nearly fifteen minutes, Hannah had been locked in her room for a week, only allowed out for school and limited bathroom breaks.

What if something happened to Neal and Mary Margaret blamed Hannah? She didn't think she could take it if that happened. Still, she couldn't stop herself. "I know how to take care of babies," she announced almost hesitantly. "I babysat a lot in my foster homes. I could watch Neal, and then Belle wouldn't have to come over."

Mary Margaret wasn't sure what to make of this announcement. Hannah was just eleven. She knew that back in the Enchanted Forest it was common for older kids to help out with younger kids, but Mary Margaret's understanding of this world was that parents didn't place such responsibility on their older children. If Hannah had been babysitting a lot of her foster siblings, she had likely been burdened with this responsibility for years.

"I have no doubt that you're more than capable of taking care of Neal," Mary Margaret assured her daughter. She had no idea how qualified Hannah might be, to be honest, but it didn't matter. She wasn't going to make her fifth grade daughter responsible for babysitting her infant brother. It didn't seem right. "Your job right now, though, is to be a kid. If you want to help me sometimes with Neal, that would be fine, but I'm not going to saddle you with that kind of responsibility. That wouldn't be fair to you."

She wasn't thrilled that Belle was still coming over – she certainly didn't believe that Belle would leave her to her own devices – but Hannah was secretly relieved that she wouldn't be responsible for keeping Neal safe. "I could hang out with Emma…" she suggested.

"Emma is working with Regina tonight." Mary Margaret wasn't sure how much Hannah needed to know about the situation with the Snow Queen, other than the fact that the woman was dangerous and Hannah needed to be careful.

"What about Dad?" Hannah tried, looking for any excuse not to be home with Belle and Neal.

"Your father is working tonight, and there's no reason for you to sit around by yourself in his office when you can be at home. It's only for an hour or two. David and I are just going for a walk." Even as she tried to convince Hannah, Mary Margaret was also trying to convince herself. She opened her mouth to say something else but was cut off by a knock on the door.

Hannah remained rooted on the sofa as David went to open the door. She'd be polite, but she wasn't at all happy with the situation and she wanted to make sure her displeasure was crystal clear to her mother and stepfather.

"Come in," she heard David say. Seconds later a young woman entered the loft. She was petite, with long brown hair and a friendly face, Hannah thought, as the woman offered both David and Mary Margaret a smile.

"Thanks for coming," Mary Margaret told her. She motioned to Hannah in the sitting area, and Hannah realized in dismay that everyone's eyes were on her. "Belle, this is my daughter, Hannah."

Belle smiled warmly, and Hannah found it hard to stay mad. "It's very nice to meet you, Hannah. Mary Margaret and David have told me so much about you."

"It's nice to meet you too," Hannah murmured.

"You're nearly a teenager, so I know you don't need a babysitter," Belle told her. "I'm here so you don't have to be responsible for taking care of your baby brother."

Managing a small smile, more for her mother's benefit than anything, she turned to Mary Margaret. "May I go read?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "Of course. I'll come say goodbye before we leave."

Hannah bolted for her room, pulling out a copy of _Anne of Green Gables_ that she'd borrowed from the school library. Belle seemed nice, but Hannah wasn't convinced that she'd let her be if she hung around downstairs, and despite her objections to having a babysitter she really didn't want to watch another adult fawn over Neal. With any luck, she'd be able to hide out upstairs until Mary Margaret and David returned.

* * *

"Don't forget I'm picking you up from school this afternoon," Mary Margaret told Hannah as she watched the girl all but inhale her breakfast.

Hannah paused, fork midair. With a loud sigh, she set her fork down on her plate and looked up at her mother, who was currently standing at the sink. Her _family_ (mother, father, and David – frankly it was a surprise Emma wasn't included in this party) was having a conference with Miss Kirkland to go over Hannah's test results. Miss Kirkland had suggested Hannah be included in that conversation, but the eleven-year-old had no interest in being the center of attention in a meeting about her 'academic exceptionality' as she'd overheard Miss Kirkland say the other day.

"About that…" she said slowly. "I don't _really_ need to be there for that meeting."

Mary Margaret furrowed her brow. After everything that had happened, she had thought Hannah would want to take a more active role in the process. "This meeting with your teacher is to discuss the results of the tests you took and to talk about what happens next. Don't you want to have a say in that?"

Hannah shook her head. "I already know the results. Miss Kirkland let me see the reports. I don't want to sit there with everyone staring at me like I'm a freak."

"You're not a freak," Mary Margaret said with a frown. "I don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that."

Since she was fairly certain that none of the other kids at her school were on average 2-3 years above their grade level academically, Hannah thought 'freak' was an appropriate description. She sure as hell wasn't normal. "Can I just ride the bus home with Henry? I promise we'll stay out of trouble."

The young mother shook her head. "I'm not worried that you and Henry will find mischief if we let you stay home alone for an hour or so after school. I'm concerned about making any decisions about your education without knowing what _you_ want."

"Miss Kirkland said a decision didn't have to be made today. Please, I really don't want to be in that meeting."

She was hesitant to agree, but Mary Margaret suspected the whole situation would become that much more complicated if she forced Hannah to attend the conference. "If you don't join us after school, your father and I will still want to discuss with you whatever Miss Kirkland tells us."

Hannah would prefer not to, but she knew it was unavoidable. "Fine," she agreed.

"All right," Mary Margaret relented. "You may ride the bus home with Henry. If you have any homework that you don't finish at school, make sure you finish it first before doing anything else with Henry."

Relieved, Hannah picked up her fork. "I will," she promised before taking another bite of her breakfast.

* * *

"I have so much homework tonight," Henry complained as he trudged through the front door of the loft and not so lightly dropped his backpack on the table.

"So do I," Hannah commiserated as she followed close behind, pausing to close the door behind them.

Henry turned to give her a look that clearly stated he didn't believe a word she'd just said. "You almost never have homework," he argued. "You get it all done in class."

She shook her head in disagreement. "Not anymore. Miss Kirkland started giving me different homework. It's not completely boring now, but I can't finish all of it in class." She set her backpack on the table, albeit much more gently than Henry had. "I have to finish my homework before I can do anything else, so I'll go get us a snack."

Hannah headed for the kitchen. Several minutes later, she returned to the table with a tray containing two glasses of iced tea, a large bowl of tortilla chips, a bowl of potato chips, and a smaller bowl of salsa.

Henry took one look at the tray and laughed. "Our mothers would not approve."

"What's not to approve?" Hannah asked with a straight face as she set down the tray. "Tortilla chips are made from corn, potato chips are made from potatoes – a vegetable – and salsa is just chopped up fruits and vegetables. It's practically a salad."

He got the feeling Hannah could talk her way around anything, though he didn't object in the least. "I like your reasoning," Henry told her.

"Mary Margaret won't make much of a fuss; it isn't as if we're eating globs of candy. Emma could live off of grilled cheese sandwiches and onion rings, so I know she won't say anything."

"It's a good thing Regina isn't here to see this," Henry added as he pulled out a chair and sat. "So, you said you have homework. I'm not convinced."

Reaching into her backpack, Hannah pulled out a copy of _The Outsiders_ , two textbooks – one math and one science, and two notebooks. As she looked for her pencil, Henry noticed the textbooks looked different from the ones he'd seen her with in the past, and pulled them closer for further inspection.

"Seventh grade science…? _Pre-algebra?!_ "

Hannah nibbled on her lip. She'd managed to keep her new textbooks hidden from the other kids in class, but she'd worried about a reaction from others. While she trusted Henry not to make fun of her, she still felt awkward at Henry's disbelief. "Miss Kirkland gave them to me."

Henry arched an eyebrow. "Just how high did you score on that test?"

Did she want to tell Henry the truth? After all, she knew exactly what Miss Kirkland was recommending to her parents. He'd find out sooner or later. Still, she was anxious about admitting to anyone how freakishly smart she was.

"High enough," she hedged.

"You know I'm going to hear about it later when Mary Margaret and David return," he reminded her. "Probably the moment they walk through the door."

She couldn't honestly say she disagreed. "You'll think I'm a weirdo."

"My mother is the Savior and my father was the son of Rumplestiltskin," Henry reminded Hannah. "My grandparents are Snow White and Prince Charming, and my adopted mother is the Evil Queen. I'm the 'truest believer', a title that nearly got me killed in Neverland last year. If you're a weirdo, then I'm right there with you."

Hannah considered Henry's words. She could somewhat see where he was coming from, but in Storybrooke _everyone_ was a fairy tale 'weirdo'. It didn't mean the others were the same kind of weirdo she considered herself to be. Actually, she still felt that 'freak' was an appropriate description, but Mary Margaret hadn't liked it and Hannah was concerned she'd get a lecture if she let it slip again.

When she didn't say anything, Henry pointed toward her textbooks. "I already see you've got seventh and eighth grade textbooks and I haven't said anything negative. I'm a little hurt that you still think I'd be anything but supportive."

She blew out a huge breath of air in frustration. "I'm sorry," she apologized earnestly, fighting to find the words to make him understand. "I've spent years trying to blend in. Where I grew up, it was bad to stand out. If you stood out, you'd…" Hannah pressed her lips together suddenly, realizing she'd shared far more than she'd intended to.

"You'd what?" Henry pressed softly.

Hannah shook her head. "Nothing. Can we just get started on our homework?"

It was clear Henry wanted to talk more, but he nodded anyway, making a mental note to talk to Emma later when he had a chance. "Sure."

* * *

Several hours later, Hannah found herself seated on the sofa in the small living room, feeling a bit crowded. Mary Margaret was seated beside her, while Emma and Whale had claimed the armchairs and David was carefully perched on the edge of a small desk that held an ancient telephone. Henry casually leaned against the wall, watching the scene with great interest.

"This isn't awkward at all," Hannah muttered, scanning for something she could focus on, other than her lap, where she wouldn't be forced to look at anyone else in the room. It seemed an impossible feat.

"You knew we'd want to talk," Mary Margaret reminded her gently. Even after her original conference with Hannah's teacher the week before, Mary Margaret hadn't been prepared for their meeting today. She'd known Hannah was smart. It was clear by the way she finished her classwork and homework in record time. She'd never expected to hear just _how smart_ her younger daughter was.

According to Miss Kirkland, Hannah had placed on a seventh grade level in math and science and an eighth grade level in English. They had all agreed during the meeting that having Hannah switch grades so late in the school year (and so soon after she'd moved to Storybrooke) wouldn't benefit her, so no matter what, Hannah would finish out the school year in fifth grade. However, it had been Miss Kirkland's recommendation that Hannah skip sixth grade and move up to the seventh grade for the following school year. With any luck, it would be an easier transition since she was moving to the secondary school at that time anyway, and she'd be in the same grade as Henry. Her teachers would still have to challenge her academically, and Miss Kirkland had mentioned possibly placing Hannah in an advanced math class not normally taken by the seventh graders.

The other option was to allow Hannah to progress to the sixth grade as usual next year, but clearly she would require extensive enrichment and support to ensure that she continued to learn. Besides, Miss Kirkland had been insistent that being around peers who were a little closer academically to Hannah would help alleviate the girl's anxiety at school and perhaps help her to make more friends.

"There's nothing to talk about," Hannah insisted. "I already know what Miss Kirkland told you."

"We don't know how _you_ feel about it, though," Whale said from his chair.

The girl shrugged. "I don't know how I feel."

"Yeah, you do."

Hannah turned to stare at Emma, once again caught off guard by her sister's uncanny perceptiveness. "I don't," she insisted.

Emma, in turn, gave her a look – the 'you're not fooling me' look. "Everyone in this room knows you're smart, Hannah. It was a bit of a surprise to find out just _how_ bright you are, only because you don't ever talk about it. It took a major event for you to even admit that you were bored at school. No one here is going to think any less of you because you're smarter than the rest of us."

"I don't like everyone staring at me."

Mary Margaret furrowed her brow. "Do you mean now or at school?"

"Both."

"We're not trying to make you feel uncomfortable," said Mary Margaret, placing her hand atop Hannah's. "We just want to understand how you're feeling, and we don't want to make any decisions about school without your input."

The eleven-year-old turned to look at her mother. "I really don't want to talk about it right now. Can I please go to my room?"

Mary Margaret sighed. "Hannah…"

" _Please_."

Not waiting for a response, Hannah shot off of the sofa and made a beeline for the stairs before anyone could stop her. Dashing up the steps, she leapt onto her bed, burying her face in the pillow as she subconsciously reached for a very old, well-worn bear – the only relic from her early childhood she'd managed to hang onto over the years.

She heard footsteps on the stairs, but she willed herself not to react. They couldn't force her to talk. Seconds later, the floor creaked as someone crossed the room; the bed beside Hannah dipped, and a hand gently rubbed her back, just between her shoulder blades.

"Talk to me, kid," a voice said gently.

Shifting her head to the side, Hannah snuck a peek at Emma. "I don't want to talk," she said softly. "Nobody's listening to me."

"Not talking doesn't work," Emma reminded her as she brushed the hair away from Hannah's face so she could better see her. "Remember?"

Yes, Hannah remembered _vividly_ what had transpired the last time she'd kept her feelings bottled up. The problem was she really didn't know what she wanted. She didn't want to be stuck in a grade where she'd be bored, but she didn't want the attention of being the youngest kid in all of her classes. It was a no-win situation as far as she was concerned. She couldn't explain to the others why she had such an aversion to attention, either. They couldn't possibly understand. With the exception of Emma, none of them had gone through what Hannah had.

As Hannah remained silent, Emma decided to try a different approach. "Henry and I were talking this afternoon," she revealed. "He mentioned that the two of you had talked a bit."

Hannah sighed. She wasn't completely surprised that Henry had mentioned the conversation to Emma. It had been obvious that Henry hadn't been satisfied with Hannah's abrupt change of subject after she'd nearly revealed a detail about her life she had zero intention of sharing. "I told Henry I don't like to stand out."

Emma nodded. "I've noticed. Henry also mentioned that you'd said that in your experience, standing out was a bad thing."

"I just don't like being the center of attention," Hannah explained.

Moving her hand from Hannah's head, she resumed her previous motions, rubbing small circles over the girl's back. "You know I grew up in the system," she said softly, just loud enough for Hannah to hear her. She waited for the girl to nod before continuing. "It was no way to grow up, bouncing from home to home, knowing that most families didn't really want or love you. No one ever physically hurt me, but everyone I knew ended up letting me down sooner or later. When I first moved came to Storybrooke, I didn't know how to trust people.

"I won't pretend to understand everything you're going through. While I'm sure some of our experiences have been similar, I also know you've dealt with things I never dealt with. That doesn't change the fact that I love you and I am here for you."

Hannah felt an unbidden tear trickle down her cheek.

"I love you. Mary Margaret loves you. David and Whale love you. Henry loves you. We are _all_ here for you, regardless of whether or not we can fully understand your experiences."

 _Damnit,_ she thought as another tear spilled over.

"Talk to me. What happens when you stand out?"

She blinked and felt her cheeks dampen. "You get hurt," she whispered.

"Come here," Emma said at once, holding her arms to her sister. Shifting so that she could sit up, Hannah leaned over, allowing Emma to pull her into a tight hug. She became aware that her silent tears were soaking the front of Emma's shirt, but if Emma noticed she didn't say anything. "No one is going to hurt you here," Emma promised. "Not for standing out or any other reason."

* * *

She stood in the sheriff's station with her family and their friends, watching a brief video of Emma as a teenager at one of her past foster homes. It was a good thing nobody expected her to talk just then, because she wasn't sure she would have been able to form a coherent sentence.

The Snow Queen – Ingrid – had once been Emma's foster mother. Every time Hannah thought she had a handle on this world she'd stumbled upon, something new and equally twisted slammed her in the face. She hadn't realized before that Emma had a past with this woman. At least it seemed like the others hadn't realized it, either; even Emma seemed surprised. Hannah thought it weird that Emma wouldn't remember living with the woman, but then again, weirder things had happened in Storybrooke.

As the others talked about trying to find Ingrid, Hannah listened as Henry mentioned her ice cream truck. Hannah remembered getting ice cream from that truck once, not long after she'd arrived. The blonde woman in the truck had seemed nice then.

She was still thinking about teenage Emma as David suggested they split into groups to search for the truck. Emma, Regina, and Hook were going to search the western part of town, while David and Hook would search the eastern part of town, albeit separately. Belle and Elsa were going to the library to see what they could find about Ingrid, as well as Elsa's sister Anna.

"What about Hannah and me?" Henry asked when no one mentioned his name. "Where are we searching?"

"You two are coming home with me," Mary Margaret said at once, standing and reaching for Neal's stroller.

"What?" Henry demanded, clearly surprised not to be included. "But the ice cream truck was my idea!"

"You aren't going anywhere near that ice witch," Regina told Henry in a firm tone.

He frowned. "That's not fair!"

Hannah wasn't all that disappointed not to join in the hunt, at least as long as she wasn't the only one left out. If Henry had been allowed to go, she might have felt upset, but now she just wanted to get home. She still had some homework to finish, and she'd just gotten several new books from the library. She wanted to dive into one of them before dinner.

As Regina pointed out to Henry that life wasn't fair, Hannah leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Come on. I have a stash of M&Ms hidden in my room, and I'll share."

M&Ms weren't exactly the same as joining in the fun with the others, but Henry recognized he wasn't going to be able to convince Regina to see things his way. Besides, Mary Margaret and David were pretty firm on the 'no candy for an afternoon snack' rule, and Regina was big on the 'no candy period' rule, so it wasn't often he got to enjoy any sort of sweet without someone monitoring the serving.

Raising an eyebrow, he leaned towards Hannah in return to whisper, "How big?"

She grinned conspiratorially. "Enough to make Regina lose her mind," she replied in a low enough voice not to be heard by the others.

Regina, a few feet away from the adolescents, narrowed her eyes. "Exactly what are you two whispering about?"

"Nothing," they replied in unison before bursting into giggles. Hannah saw David shake his head humorously out of the corner of her eye, and although Regina didn't seem to believe them, Mary Margaret spoke before she had the chance to say anything else. "Come on, you two."


	19. Chapter 19

**AN:** I feel like it's kind of a given at this point, but some events from the series will be altered slightly (or more) to accommodate the addition of an extra character (in this case, Hannah). I don't know why I felt the need to make that clarification, but there you go.

* * *

Hannah shifted, situating her body over the armchair in a way that would likely seem awkward to the casual observer. Her legs draped over one arm, head hanging backwards over the edge of the seat cushion, she held a book in her hands, engrossed in the story. She'd finished her homework nearly a half hour earlier, and now she had some time to kill before anyone else got home. Mary Margaret was out at some 'mommy and me' group with Neal (though Hannah tried to push that pesky detail out of her mind), Henry was working at Gold's shop, and David and Emma were presumably at the sheriff's station. Knowing that the others were engaged in mundane, magic-free tasks, Hannah didn't mind being home alone.

So wrapped up in her book, she didn't notice the apartment door open and close a few minutes later.

"That can't be comfortable."

Hannah jerked in surprise, the book slipping from her hands and bouncing off her face before landing on the floor. Heart fluttering, she twisted her head until she could see Emma's amused expression. "You scared me," Hannah muttered, shifting once more so she was seated upright on the chair. Leaning over, she quickly retrieved her book from the floor, finding her page so she could slip in her bookmark.

"Sorry kid," Emma apologized, though her chuckle made Hannah huff. "I'm on my way to pick up Neal. Want to come with me?"

Did Hannah want to spend time with Emma? Without a doubt. Emma had been busy lately, between her budding relationship with Hook and the mess with the Snow Queen. It was hard enough for Hannah having to compete with Neal for her mom's attention; now she felt like she had to compete for Emma's attention as well. She didn't expect to be the center of attention with anyone; it was just Hannah's experience that this was the point when things took a turn for the worst.

However, even now she would have to split Emma's attention with Neal. Hannah didn't _think_ Emma would outright ignore her while watching Neal, but the insecurities didn't shed away so easily. "Um… okay," she agreed, deciding to be hopeful.

Emma didn't miss the hesitation, both in the kid's tone and facial expressions, but she chose not to call attention to it. "Great!" she said in a cheerful voice. "Grab your shoes and we'll go."

Fifteen minutes later, Hannah was standing silently next to Emma while her older sister and mother discussed the 'mommy and me' group, which turned out to be a support group for first time mothers. _Third-time mother was more like it_ , Hannah thought bitterly, but she kept her feelings to herself. She didn't want to make a scene in front of people she hardly knew.

Glancing down at the bottle in Emma's had, Hannah noticed with interest that it seemed to be glowing and the liquid was bubbling. From what she understood of Emma's magic, it tended to flare up when Emma was feeling emotional. Was it possible that Emma was feeling what Hannah felt about Neal? No, she decided almost instantly. Emma was an adult and she'd known her parents longer than Hannah had. It was silly to think that _she'd_ be feeling jealous.

As Hannah pulled herself from her musings, she realized that Mary Margaret and some of the other moms had also noticed the bottle. The fear on their faces was obvious.

Emma was reaching for Neal when her phone rang. Hannah watched in interest as Emma answered the call. The conversation was brief, and when it ended, Emma smiled at the others awkwardly. "I guess I'll have to take a raincheck on babysitting. We've got a lead on the Snow Queen."

"I want to go with you," Hannah said at once. She didn't want to spend another moment in that room without Emma.

Mary Margaret and Emma spoke in unison. "No."

"You're staying away from the Snow Queen," Mary Margaret said firmly.

Emma nodded in agreement. "Go home with Mary Margaret. I'll see you later."

Glancing back and forth between the two, Hannah felt her frustration rise. "No!" she shot back without thinking. Before they could say another word, Hannah darted out of the room. She could hear several voices calling her name, but she didn't care. They could keep her from following Emma, but she _wasn't_ going to hang around to watch Mary Margaret coo over Neal.

She ran as fast as her legs would carry her as she made her way across town. Mary Margaret wouldn't be able to keep up, not with Neal, and with any luck Emma would decide her lead on the Snow Queen trumped chasing after Hannah. The girl supposed she could beat Mary Margaret home and seek refuge in her room. Her mom would likely be annoyed with her for running, but she couldn't really be mad if Hannah merely went home on her own, could she? Finding a place to unwind away from home was tempting, but after her last disappearing act, Hannah didn't want to risk the consequences.

"Hannah!"

She stopped short at the unexpected voice. Spinning in place, she watched her dad jog towards her as she fought to catch her breath. "Dad?"

Catching up to Hannah, Whale reached out to grasp her shoulders. "Your mother called, frantic that you'd run off. What's going on?"

Hannah shook her head adamantly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well you'd better start talking about it," Whale said, adopting a stern tone, "because we've had a talk before about you running off."

This clearly wasn't going well. She hadn't expected to find herself in any real trouble. "I was heading home…" she said, hoping it might appease her dad.

"Why not wait for your mother then, Hannah?"

"I didn't… I couldn't…" She blew out a large breath of air. "I needed some space."

Whale dropped one hand from Hannah's shoulder to fish out his cell phone. It was then Hannah noticed he was still wearing his lab coat. She realized he must have come straight from the hospital. "I'm calling your mother to let her know you're okay and that I'm bringing you back to the hospital with me," he told her, his other hand still firmly gripping her shoulder. "By the time we get there, I expect you to be ready to elaborate on why you 'needed space' unless you'd like to have another talk about safety."

She cringed. How was she going to explain her feelings to Whale? She couldn't even talk to Emma about it, let alone either of her parents. Hannah had no doubts about what her dad meant by 'talk' and yet, he wouldn't possibly think of doing so at the hospital where anyone could see or hear, would he?

The walk to the hospital was dismally short in Hannah's opinion, and before she knew it, she and Whale were in his office and Whale was closing the door.

"Sit," he instructed, pointing to the sofa.

Hannah immediately claimed a spot in the middle of the sofa, crossing her legs and pulling her feet towards her like a pretzel. She watched, somewhat warily, as Whale rolled his office chair over so he could sit in front of her.

"Explain."

She shook her head. "I can't."

"Hannah."

"I _can't_!" she insisted, her voice hitching. "I was supposed to be with Emma, but then she got a call about the Snow Queen and had to leave. She and Mom wouldn't let me go with her. I couldn't stay there Dad, I just couldn't. I promise I was going straight home!"

Perplexed, Whale silently studied Hannah. He didn't understand why she didn't feel like she could stay where she'd been, but she was clearly upset, and he believed her when she insisted she'd been heading home. "Your mom was really worried when she called me, Hannah," he said after several moments. "She had no idea where you were going. Why didn't you just tell her you wanted to walk home on your own?"

Hannah bit her lip. "I was frustrated." Nervously, she tried to gauge his reaction. "Am I in trouble?"

He purposely let her sweat a little before responding. "I'm going to let your mother make that decision, since she's the one you ran from in the first place. She's should be here soon to pick you up."

She felt her shoulders sag. "Why can't I just walk home on my own?"

"You owe your mom an explanation for running off like you did, and she'll worry if I just let you walk home now."

"Fantastic…" she muttered. Twisting around, Hannah stretched out on her back so that her head rested on one arm rest and her feet rested on the other. Closing her eyes, she tried to pretend that she was anywhere else, doing anything other than waiting for the inevitable lecture she knew she'd receive when her mom arrived.

Hannah half expected Whale to say something else, perhaps about the sliver of sarcasm in her tone or the light huff she'd let out. It was more attitude than she should give, but she couldn't help it. It was frustrating how much her parents hovered. Hannah loved knowing that people cared about where she was and what she was doing, but they also cared about Henry, yet the kid had much more freedom than Hannah did.

No comments came, though. Hannah rested peacefully for several minutes before the door to Whale's office opened and a new voice broke the silence.

"Is she okay?"

Hannah opened her eyes at Mary Margaret's frantic voice. She felt a little bad that she'd clearly worried her mom.

"She's fine," Hannah heard Whale say from somewhere behind her. "A little cranky, but fine."

Twisting her neck, Hannah glared grumpily at her father for his comment, but his only response was a raised eyebrow. Slowly, the eleven-year-old pushed herself up into a seated position, though she made no move to vacate the sofa. "I'm sorry if I scared you," she told Mary Margaret.

"If?" Mary Margaret repeated incredulously, staring at her daughter like she'd sprouted a second head. "Just how did you expect me to feel after you ran out the door when I had absolutely no idea where you were going?"

Hannah's guilt only increased at the scolding. "I said I was sorry…" she muttered, failing to completely reign in any hint of attitude.

With an audible sigh, Mary Margaret held her arms out. "Come here."

Not sure what to expect, Hannah took her time pushing herself off the sofa and taking the few steps over to where her mother stood. Wordlessly, she was pulled into Mary Margaret's arms as the woman hugged her tightly.

"I'm so relieved that you're okay," Mary Margaret murmured into her hair. "I told you before, you can't scare me like that, Hannah Victoria."

"I'm sorry," Hannah repeated, her tone showing more contrition this time.

Mary Margaret kissed the top of her head before stepping back, her hands gently cupping Hannah's shoulders. "I appreciate your apology. When we get home, you can park yourself in a corner."

Hannah's jaw dropped. "Like… a _timeout_?!" she asked, not quite sure she heard correctly. She vaguely remembered Whale giving her a timeout on her first day of school, but certainly it hadn't happened since. "I'm too old for that!"

"If you're not too old to scream 'no' at me and run off like you did, I'd say aren't too old to stand in a corner and reflect on your behavior for a few minutes."

"You screamed _no_ at your mother?" Whale asked sternly, rejoining the conversation.

"I was frustrated…" Hannah reminded him, not at _all_ liking the look on his face.

Mary Margaret moved to open the door. "Well, you can reflect on how to better express your frustration when we get home. Let's go."

* * *

The trip home had taken longer than anyone had expected, as Mary Margaret had received a phone call from David the moment they stepped foot outside the hospital. The Snow Queen, who had been captured and transported to the sheriff's station during this time, had somehow managed to trap Emma inside the building.

By the time they reached the sheriff's station, both Emma and the Snow Queen had broken out, though to everyone's surprise it had been Emma who had blown a massive hole in the brick wall. Hannah had watched in silence as her mom and stepdad tried to talk to Emma, but Emma's powers were out of control and before Hannah realized what was going on, a tall lamppost had fallen on David. He wasn't seriously hurt, but Emma had freaked out, and after a scolding tone from Mary Margaret, she'd run off.

A search was mounted, but Mary Margaret had promptly taken Hannah and Henry home after dropping Neal off with Belle.

As they stepped into the apartment, Mary Margaret pointed toward the nearest corner. "Go," she told Hannah.

"Mom…" Hannah whined, trying to ignore Henry's curious expression. She hadn't told him what had happened before they'd met up at the sheriff's station, and she had no desire to tell him now.

Mary Margaret shook her head briskly. "Nope. Corner, now. Twenty minutes."

Hannah made no effort to move to the corner. "Getting a timeout when you're eleven is embarrassing…" she said, her voice still whiny.

Raising an eyebrow, Mary Margaret said, "You're about to feel a whole lot more embarrassed if you don't follow my directions right now."

Not wanting to know what her mother meant by that, Hannah adopted an impressive pout and trudged over to the corner. She was sure she could feel Henry's eyes boring holes into the back of her head, but she didn't say anything. If she and Mary Margaret had been the only two in the loft, Hannah probably would have made a bigger fuss from the corner, but doing so in front of Henry would be embarrassing enough without any help from Mary Margaret.

The minutes dragged on and on. At some point, Hannah leaned forward, letting her forehead rest on the wall in front of her. It had to have been longer than twenty minutes, she thought as she closed her eyes. What if her mom had forgotten she was there? That couldn't possibly happen, could it?

The door opened behind her, and Hannah desperately wanted to know who it was. She didn't think Henry had left, so it had to be someone new. She could hear whispered voices, but she couldn't make out who was speaking or what they were saying.

When she was certain she was about to die of boredom, Hannah heard Mary Margaret's voice nearby. "Come here, Hannah."

Grateful to finally leave that blasted corner, Hannah spied her mother in front of the counter just outside of the kitchen. She also noticed David reading something at the table. He wasn't looking at her, but she still felt self-conscious as she approached Mary Margaret.

Despite having apologized several times already, Hannah felt the need to do so once more. "I'm sorry Mom," she said softly.

"Are we going to have a repeat of today's behavior?"

"No, ma'am." She hadn't intended to use the formal address, but it had just slipped out. Hannah didn't mind. As far as she was concerned, she'd say anything if it meant not having to return to the corner.

Mary Margaret cupped Hannah's cheeks, kissing her forehead. "Then we won't speak another word about it. David and I are going out to search for Emma. You and Henry are going to stay here. If for some reason Emma comes home, call us and let us know."

Hannah frowned. "I want to help you."

"I know you do, just as you know why I want you to stay here," Mary Margaret said. "Henry's upstairs. I don't know how long we'll be gone, but don't stay up too late." Reaching out, she hugged Hannah. "I love you."

Sighing, Hannah stepped back. "I love you too," she said softly. She wanted so badly to argue, but after the day's events, she figured it wouldn't be a very wise move.

Knowing that if she stayed there any longer she'd be tempted to try to convince Mary Margaret or David to take her along, Hannah climbed up the stairs to the bedroom she shared with Henry and sometimes Emma.

Henry smiled at her from his bed, but he didn't ask about her time in the corner downstairs, something Hannah was extremely grateful for. Needing a distraction, she picked up one of the books from her nightstand and stretched out on her bed.

She tried to focus on the book in front of her, but Hannah's mind was elsewhere. It was silly to even try to distract herself, she realized. How could Hannah possibly think about anything else when Emma was out there somewhere, freaking out over her powers?

It had been a little scary, if she admitted it to herself, watching Emma accidentally knock over the lamp post with her magic, but even so Hannah wasn't afraid of her. Emma would never intentionally hurt her, and Emma was clearly scared by the intensity of her magic. Hannah understood how it felt to be scared.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah noticed Henry move to stand in front of the circular window, something obviously holding his attention. Sighing, Hannah reread the first sentence on the page for the third time in as many minutes.

"They're gone."

Tearing her eyes away from her book (it was a hopeless task anyway), Hannah looked questioningly at Henry. "What?"

"They're gone," he repeated.

She snorted softly. "Yeah, that didn't make any more sense the second time you said it. What are you talking about?"

"Mary Margaret, David, and the others. They're gone."

"Oh." Hannah hadn't realized Henry had been watching _them_ through the window. "So?"

"They aren't here to make sure we stay in the apartment. We can go find Emma."

Nothing in the world sounded more appealing at the moment, but Hannah was acutely aware of a glitch in that plan. "If they come back and I'm not here, Mom will kill me. If she tells Dad, he'll kill me after she's through with me. They were _very_ clear about that the last time I pulled a disappearing act." If she only had to worry about being grounded, Hannah wouldn't give Henry's plan a second thought. She could deal with being grounded. Not being able to go out would suck, but Hannah was more than capable of entertaining herself with books, and she had yet to read all of the books in the town's small public library. However, she knew if she got caught, being grounded would be the least of her worries.

Henry's eyes widened in understanding. He seemed to mull over that information for a few moments, then nodded. "Got it. If anyone asks, I ran off, and you went after me, trying to talk me into coming back home. I'll take all the heat."

Hannah shook her head. "I don't want you to get into trouble for me again."

"It's my idea," Henry reminded her. "My fault if we get caught, and I don't think they'll make a huge fuss over it anyway. I can't stand the thought of Emma feeling all alone out there."

"I know," Hannah agreed softly.

Glad they were in agreement, Henry reached down to slip on his sneakers. "Let's go. I want to find Emma before anyone else does."

* * *

Nearly two hours later, the two were walking through the forest, searching for Emma. Hannah silently prayed that none of the grownups were around. Not only did her parents have no idea of her whereabouts at the moment, but she was also in the forest, very much _without_ an adult. She supposed that, if she and Henry found Emma, she could argue that she was with Emma and therefore with an adult, but her parents probably wouldn't be satisfied with such an argument, particularly with the sun beginning to set.

As they trekked through the trees and underbrush, Hannah took the opportunity to reflect over how her life had changed since she'd arrived in Storybrooke. She'd been in search of her birth mother and a reprieve from her life in the foster system, and she'd found not only her birth mother but an entire family. She now knew both her mother and her father and, while they weren't married to each other, they didn't have the same dysfunctional relationship that other kids' divorced parents sometimes had. She had a stepfather who seemed like a decent person, two siblings, and even a nephew (she still couldn't wrap her head around that tidbit). Someone was always around to make sure Hannah ate, got enough sleep, and made it to and from school with everything she needed. She was no longer bored all day at school, and her family hadn't treated her like a freak or an inconvenience for being smart (or for any other reason). Her parents seemed to favor more old fashioned disciplinary methods, but no one had actually hurt her.

In spite of the magic and mayhem that had entered her life, and in spite of her jealousy over Neal (and Emma), for the first time in years Hannah had started to feel safe.

Henry's voice startled Hannah out of her daydreams. "Mom…?"

Hannah's eyes darted to Henry before following the direction of his gaze. Several yards away from them, Emma stood in a small clearing. She seemed startled by their presence. "Henry? Hannah? What are you doing here?"

"We've been looking for you," Henry explained, taking a step toward Emma. "Everyone's looking for you."

"I told them to stay away," Emma argued. "I… I can't control my powers right now. I'm going to figure out how to deal with this, but until then, you two need to stay away."

Hannah shook her head. "No," she said, joining the conversation as she moved closer to her sister.

"You always try to pull away from people, like it will fix all of your problems," Henry told Emma, "but it won't. Let us help."

Henry took another step forward, but Emma shook her head, taking several steps back. "Henry, no. You and Hannah need to go."

"Mom, we can help…" insisted Henry, taking another step forward.

Emma held out her hands in front of her as if to motion for the pair to stop. A wall of energy burst from her hands and shot straight toward Henry and Hannah. On instinct, Hannah threw her hands in front of her face, palms facing out. The wall of energy disintegrated a foot from her hands, as though it had hit an invisible shield. In her peripheral view, Hannah just barely caught Henry flying backward.

"Henry!" she cried out at the same as Emma. Sprinting over to where Henry was sprawled on the ground, Hannah let out a sigh of relief as Henry began to push himself up so he was sitting. "Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling beside him.

"Emma…" Henry said softly.

Looking over her shoulder, Hannah caught a look of horror and panic on Emma's face, but there was something else there, too. Emma watched them another second before murmuring an apology and taking off in the opposite direction.

Hannah turned her attention back to Henry, noticing the wound on his head. Blood on the ground indicated his head had connected with a small rock when he'd landed. "You're hurt."

With Emma no longer in their line of sight, Henry turned his undivided attention to Hannah. "What was _that_?"

"What was what?" she countered, hoping Henry wasn't talking about what she _thought_ he was talking about.

"Emma's magic. It didn't touch you."

"You hit your head pretty hard," Hannah evaded. The cut behind Henry's ear wasn't bleeding enough for Hannah to worry he might need stitches, but the skin around it was swollen and purple. He'd have a nasty bruise. "I think it's causing you to imagine things."

Henry gently touched the bump, wincing at the sharp pain. As he pulled back his hand, he stared at the dark, sticky liquid on his fingers. Stubbornly he shook his head. "No," he argued, looking back up at Hannah. "I know what I saw. You were closer to Emma than I was. The magic stopped right in front of you, like there was an invisible wall protecting you. It wasn't Emma's doing, because she doesn't have control of her magic and she was just as shocked as I was. How did you do that?"

"I didn't do _anything_ ," insisted Hannah. Leaning closer to get a better look at his injury, she sighed. "I'm not sure how we're going to explain this to Mom or David." Cautiously, she reached up with one hand, barely touching the skin with her finger. Henry winced at the touch, but didn't pull away. Hannah felt a spark of warmth in her fingertip. That warmth spread through her finger and the rest of her hand. As it did, Hannah noticed with utter shock that the wound on Henry's head was beginning to shrink. The skin slowly closed up, the purple color faded to a light pink, and the blood seemed to vanish, almost as if evaporating into the air around them.

"What…" Hannah trailed off, pushing herself back off her knees suddenly and landing rather ungracefully on her butt.

Henry frowned in confusion. "My head stopped hurting." Reaching up, he felt around for a few seconds, his confusion growing as he couldn't locate the bump he'd felt just moments before. "I…" He met Hannah's gaze in awe. "You healed me."

"No," she insisted forcefully. "That takes magic. I don't have magic."

"Yeah? How else do you explain the fact that I'm no longer hurt?"

She shook her head, desperation weighing on her like a boulder. Hannah had witnessed numerous acts of magic since her arrival in Storybrooke, none of which had rattled her the way the past two minutes had. She couldn't argue with Henry's logic, but that would mean that _she_ , Hannah, had done magic, and that scared the hell out of her. "I can't," she admitted, barely above a whisper, "but I didn't do it."

Pushing himself to his feet, Henry offered a hand to Hannah. She stared at his hand a moment before reaching up to grasp it, allowing him to help her stand. "I won't tell anyone," he promised her.

Hannah sighed in relief. She wanted to argue that whatever had happened just then hadn't been her doing, but it was clear Henry wouldn't listen. In the very least, no one else would hear about it. "Thank you," she breathed. Letting go of Henry's hand, she nodded in the direction they'd come from earlier. "We should get back, though I'm not looking forward to the fit Mom will have over our disappearance."

The older kid tried to smile, though considering their present situation, the most he could muster was to lift up one corner of his mouth. "Leave that to me."


	20. Chapter 20

Exhaustion was beginning to wear down on Hannah. She and Henry had managed to make it home before the others, but they hadn't been able to fall asleep after the excitement of that night. Mary Margaret and David had barely rested before heading back out to search for Emma again, this time armed with the knowledge that Emma was planning on somehow getting rid of her magic. They'd actually supported the idea until Regina had talked them out of it. Hannah wondered what they'd think if they knew what had happened earlier that morning with Emma.

Hannah didn't dare complain, no matter how tired she felt. She wanted, no _needed_ , to find Emma. Emma was her lifeline, the only person in town who truly understood her. It wasn't exactly fair of her; Hannah knew the rest of her family wanted to understand her. They hadn't been in her shoes, though, not the way Emma had.

They picked up Emma's trail in the forest, where Hannah got to see her mother's tracking skills first hand. She had to admit that it was a little badass that a princess, one regarded in the 'real world' as the stereotypical damsel-in-distress, possessed unexpected skills. Hannah had already become acquainted with her mom's story, but it wasn't the same as seeing Snow White in action – something Hannah hadn't been able to do much back in the Enchanted Forest.

The sun had already set when they finally found Emma's car, parked in front of a pretty two-story house in a neighborhood that looked very much like the other neighborhoods in Storybrooke or any other U.S. town. As they approached, Hannah spied Emma and Elsa walking down the steps in front of the house. She sighed in relief.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret called out, having spotted the women at the same time as Hannah. "Did you…?"

Emma offered them a tired smile. "I didn't, thanks to Elsa."

Mary Margaret wrapped her arms around Emma, hugging her tight. "Thank goodness. I'm so glad!" Loosening her hold, Mary Margaret stepped back. "Please don't ever change. We love you just the way you are."

"I know." Turning her head a bit, Emma smiled at Henry and Hannah. "How are you two?"

"I'm glad you're okay," Henry said.

Hannah blinked, her vision blurred by unshed tears. A moment later, she ran over to Emma, wrapping her arms around the woman's torso.

"I'm fine," Emma murmured, returning the hug as she rubbed Hannah's back gently. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, Hannah reluctantly let go of Emma and backed up. She hastily wiped the moisture from her eyes. "Does this mean you're in control of your magic again?"

Emma grinned. "Definitely." Turning towards the street, she rubbed her palms together before holding her hands in front of her, palms up. Her skin glowed with magic, and she stared up at the sky in focus. Hannah followed Emma's gaze and smiled as several balls of light soared upward, exploding in brilliant fireworks that lit up the otherwise black sky.

The light show was beautiful, but Hannah was much happier over the fact that Emma seemed less stressed about her magic. _Everyone_ seemed less stressed about it. Hannah wondered if Emma would say anything about what had happened before in the forest. The woman had been so upset over hurting Henry that Hannah couldn't be sure whether or not she'd noticed that Hannah _hadn't_ gone flying with Henry. If Emma had noticed, Hannah was sure she wouldn't let it go.

Just then, Henry's voice broke through Hannah's thoughts.

"Mom? When did you get that bracelet?"

Everyone's attention turned to the yellow ribbon circling Emma's wrist. Hannah wondered if it had been there all along; she hadn't noticed it before.

"What's happening?" Elsa asked, her voice concerned. When Hannah turned to look at Elsa, she noticed the woman had an identical ribbon around her wrist. Things were definitely starting to get weird.

"I don't know," Emma responded, tugging on her own ribbon. "I can't get it off."

"Can you feel that?" continued Elsa. "My power feels like it's being drained… harnessed…"

Emma's eyebrows furrowed, her expression growing dark. "I feel it too. I don't know why, but I can guess who's behind this."

"Ingrid."

"We've got to stop her, but I think everyone needs a few hours to rest first." Emma glanced at her parents before her gaze settled on the kids. They looked utterly exhausted. "Let's go home and get some sleep, and tomorrow morning we'll plan our next steps."

* * *

The following morning, Hannah stood next to Henry, staring up at the mammoth ice wall at the town border. Emma was safe, but they had a bigger problem – the Spell of Shattered Sight, which according to Regina would reach them by nightfall. Everyone in town would suddenly feel compelled to fight each other until they were dead. The very idea terrified Hannah, so she was trying desperately to think about anything _other_ than the impending doom.

It had been Emma's suggestion that they leave town before the spell hit, which explained why they were now standing in front of this wall.

"Exactly how are we going to get out of town?" a small man asked – one of the dwarves, if Hannah remembered correctly.

"We tear down the wall," Emma explained, "or in the very least, tunnel through."

Regina snorted softly. "Brute force?"

"If it works, what's the problem?"

David stepped forward, a heavy rope wound around one shoulder and a pickax in his hand. Knowing the wall had been built with magic, Hannah seriously doubted David would be able to break through it with a little hand tool. Why would it, when Emma, Elsa, and Regina's magic hadn't been able to do anything?

"David, be careful," Mary Margaret pleaded in a soft voice.

Stepping up to the wall, David reached out and swung the pickax at the ice. The wall vibrated, the energy throwing David back several feet as a new column of ice shot up from the ground in the very spot David had just been standing. Emma rushed forward, helping David to his feet.

"Looks like that wall isn't wild about your brute force," remarked Regina.

A crack formed in the ice covering the ground, and Hannah watched as Elsa leaned down to retrieve a pretty silver necklace. From where she stood, Hannah could just make out the snowflake pendant.

"It's Anna's necklace!" Elsa said with glee. "It's a sign. We're going to win."

Regina muttered again about sentimentality and hope.

"All right, we've got to stop wasting time if we want a shot at winning," Emma declared, taking charge. "Mom and Dad, go tell everyone what's going on. Leroy, help them. Everyone needs to be away from their loved ones when this goes down. Killian, see if there are boats we can use to get people out of here."

"I have to warn Robin," Regina said.

"Okay," agreed Emma. "Elsa and I are going to see if Gold has any ideas on how to fight this. Henry, Hannah, you two come with us." She knew Mary Margaret wouldn't argue about Henry going with her – Henry was her son after all – but she hoped her mother wouldn't put up a fight about Hannah joining her. Emma had already anticipated that if told to go with Mary Margaret and David, Hannah would object, and they didn't have time to argue over it. They especially didn't have time for Hannah to run off again.

"No," Regina said at once. "Henry's coming with me. I want him as far away from that nut job as possible, and you two are a part of her plan. As long as it's safe for him, he stays with me."

Emma looked like she wanted to argue, but instead she sighed. Taking a few steps forward, she wrapped her arms around Henry.

"I'll be fine," Henry tried to reassure her.

"I love you, kid," murmured Emma.

After a moment, she stepped away from Henry and turned to Hannah. "If you're coming with us, Hannah, you're going to do what I tell you to do the _first_ time. No arguments. Understood?"

Hannah nodded eagerly, grateful she was still going with Emma. "I promise I'll listen."

"All right. Let's go."

* * *

Hannah spent the next several hours following Emma and Elsa around town. She stayed mostly silent, watching and listening as the two women worked together to find Anna. When they finally found Anna (and Kristoff) on the beach after losing nearly all hope, Hannah found herself feeling happy for Elsa. While she hadn't really grown close to the blonde, she could appreciate a happy ending (or middle), whether or not it actually involved her. Hannah also still held out hope that somehow Anna would be able to help save them from the impending curse.

Not long after, Hannah found herself in the middle of the sheriff's station with Emma, Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Mary Margaret, David, and Neal. In a twist that shouldn't have surprised Hannah at that point, David and Anna also knew each other.

The happy reunion didn't last long, though, as everyone prepared for the curse. Mary Margaret and David stepped into the jail cells, insistent that Emma lock them in so they couldn't be a danger to themselves or others. Kristoff allowed himself to be handcuffed to one of the desks. Mary Margaret handed Neal to Emma, deciding he was safest with her since Anna, Elsa, and Emma were all immune to the curse.

Hannah wondered what would happen to her. She certainly wasn't immune to the curse – she didn't have a yellow ribbon and she hadn't been under the curse before. Would she be handcuffed to another desk? If the curse was as bad as they said, and people would say and do hurtful things to the people they loved, Hannah wasn't sure she wanted to be around her family. She didn't want to say or do anything mean, and she didn't think she could take hearing anything equally cruel in return, even if somewhere in her mind she knew they wouldn't really mean it.

She was also sure she wouldn't be allowed to join Emma when she confronted the Snow Queen.

Staring at the teary faces of her loved ones, Hannah swallowed a lump in her throat and tried not to cry. "What about me?" she whispered.

Emma looked at Hannah and frowned. She couldn't place her in one of the cells with Mary Margaret or David, and handcuffing her to a piece of furniture seemed like a horrible idea considering Hannah's past. Glancing around, she sighed in relief when she saw her office.

Turning to Elsa, Emma blinked back tears. "Elsa, would you mind holding my brother for a minute?" Handing the sleeping infant over to Elsa, Emma wrapped an arm around Hannah's shoulders. "Come on," she said, leading her little sister over to the private office. Dropping her arm, Emma dug through a desk drawer until she pulled out a bulky set of headphones that would completely cover Hannah's ears and a book she'd bought recently as a gift for Hannah.

"Sit down," she instructed, pointing to one corner of the office.

Not forgetting her earlier promise, Hannah promptly sat on the floor in the corner. Emma handed her the book.

"I saw this book the other day and thought you might enjoy it," Emma explained as she knelt down in front of Hannah. "I want you to stay down here and read. I'm going to lock and spell the door so no one can get in."

Hannah couldn't keep a stray tear from falling. "I'm scared."

"I know you are, but you'll be safe in here. Elsa and I are going to deal with the Snow Queen, and then everything will be okay. In the meantime, these headphones will block out most sounds, so if it gets noisy outside it won't seem so bad." Reaching out, Emma gently fitted the headphones over Hannah's ears. "Comfortable?"

She could no longer hear Emma's voice, but Hannah could read lips well enough to understand Emma's question. She nodded.

Emma quickly wrapped her arms around Hannah, who squeezed Emma in return like her life depended on it. After a moment, the blonde pulled back and stood up. "I love you. Stay here," she reminded her sister.

Hannah watched in silence as Emma closed and locked the door behind her on the way out. Through the large window above her, Hannah could see Emma linger a moment longer as the air seemed to glow outside the office.

She felt positively terrified, but Hannah did her best to follow her sister's instructions. Curling up into a position that felt slightly more comfortable, Hannah opened the book, hoping it would provide a sufficient distraction from the chaos that was about to envelop Storybrooke.

She tried to focus on the words; she'd had this book on her wish list for months, and Hannah knew any other day she'd be lost in the story after thirty seconds. Although she couldn't hear anything, her mind kept wandering to the people on the other side of the door. Waiting in silence was torturous, but Hannah didn't dare stand up to look through the window. Emma had wanted her to stay down here, and Hannah had promised.

Shifting, Hannah stretched out on her back to stare at the ceiling. Her eyes widened when she noticed small metallic objects – almost like large flecks of glitter – slowly falling from the ceiling. It had to be magic, but the only magic that could get through Emma's barrier would be…

Several flecks passed through her eyes. Hannah remained frozen for nearly a minute before blinking, a wave of ire washing over her. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt as _angry_ as she did then. She was mad at her mother – for not realizing she'd still been alive and letting her grow up in the foster system, for giving so much of her attention to Neal, for not understanding how she was feeling (no matter how unfair it was to expect her to). Hannah was mad at her father – also for her childhood, as well as not being around more. She was mad at Henry for having freedoms her parents wouldn't grant her, despite the fact that he was only a year older than she was. She was absolutely pissed at Emma for not realizing how much she, Hannah, needed her; for Emma letting Hook, the Snow Queen, and everyone else monopolize her time.

Hannah felt the overwhelming urge to throw, slam, or break something. There was plenty to break in the office, but as mad as she felt, Hannah didn't want to deal with someone else being pissed at her for breaking something. Maybe it was the fact that she couldn't see or hear any of the subjects of her ire, but Hannah was able to maintain enough self-control to stay on the floor. Glancing at the book in her hand, however, Hannah realized trying to read was a pointless task. She tossed the book across the room, though lightly enough not to damage it, and covered her eyes with an arm as she took deep breaths.

The minutes dragged on. Hannah had no idea how long she'd been lying there, but it had remained relatively quiet – enough so that she couldn't hear anything through the headphones, at least. A sudden crash brought that quiet to an abrupt end. Startled, Hannah scrambled to her knees and peered through the large window. Her mother was fighting with… Regina? No, Hannah realized at once. That wasn't Regina. It was the Evil Queen. It was as if she'd stepped right off one of the pages of Henry's storybook and into the real world.

The pair were really going at it, consequently ignoring the other people in the room. It occurred to Hannah that Kristoff and Anna were no longer there, but they weren't exactly a priority in her mind. Emma had placed a protection spell on the office, and while Emma was strong, Hannah wasn't going to bet on Emma's magic holding out against that of the Evil Queen. Best not to let the Evil Queen know she was there. Crouching down, Hannah returned to the corner she'd occupied before Emma's departure.

Although tempted to close her eyes again to help block out the chaos, Hannah kept them wide open. She was no match against the Evil Queen, but having a second's warning was better than no warning at all. Hannah still felt immensely angry, but self-preservation won out, and so she waited impatiently, for what exactly she didn't know.

As though a light switch had just flicked off, Hannah's anger dissipated. She sat in silence, processing this sudden change in emotion, when a new feeling appeared – the unexplainable urge to laugh. Hannah giggled softly, not at all understanding why, and peeled off her headphones. The sound of laughter greeted her ears. Shifting once more to her knees, Hannah spied Mary Margaret, the Evil Queen, and David all laughing like someone had just told the most hilarious joke ever.

Hannah gently knocked on the window, attracting everyone's attention. They all stared at her for a moment like they were surprised by her presence. Hannah watched as Mary Margaret turned to Regina and spoke quickly. Only able to see Mary Margaret's profile, Hannah had a difficult time making out her words. Regina nodded in understanding though. She glanced down a moment, shook her head, and waved a hand over her body. Regina's outfit shifted back into the business attire Hannah was accustomed to seeing on the town mayor.

Regina walked over to the office door and held her hands up, palms facing the door. Hannah's giggles disappeared. This looked like the Regina she recognized, but she wasn't 100% certain she wasn't still a threat. Slowly, Regina moved her hands apart and in small, identical arches. After several tense moments for Hannah, Regina reached for the doorknob. The lock clicked, and Regina pulled the door open.

"Are you okay?" Regina asked her.

Hannah was taken aback by the question. She couldn't remember the last time Regina had spoken directly to her. "Yeah," she responded softly. "Thank you." Offering Henry's second mother a small smile, Hannah joined the others in the main room. She wasn't surprised when Mary Margaret rushed to envelop her in a hug. "I'm okay," she told her mother as she returned the hug.

"I know," Mary Margaret replied, releasing Hannah after a moment. "Emma made sure of that."

David stepped forward, and Hannah offered him a smile as he reached out to hug her as well.

"Does this mean the spell is broken?"

"It would appear so," Regina said.

Mary Margaret smiled. "Then let's go find the others."

* * *

"Henry. Hannah. To what do I owe this visit so early in the morning?"

Hannah smiled politely at Mr. Gold. She hadn't believed her luck when Henry had convinced her parents to let her go into town for a few minutes without adult supervision. Henry's sales pitch had emphasized the fact that the Snow Queen was gone and therefore no longer a threat. He'd also agreed to accompany Hannah, which had surprisingly made Mary Margaret feel better. Really, Hannah thought to herself, Henry wasn't _that_ much older than her. The deal stipulated, however, that they had to be home in an hour so they could 'rest'. Hannah had zero objections there.

"I wanted to ask you something," Hannah admitted.

Mr. Gold seemed much more interested in her admission than Hannah would have expected. "Go on."

Hannah stood silently a moment, gathering her thoughts. "When we met, you said that you'd hate for me not to realize my full potential," she said, making sure she used the words he'd used. "What did you mean?"

The older man nodded. "I also recall saying all would be revealed in due time."

"But what did you mean by my full potential? Were you talking about school?" It could have made sense for Mr. Gold to have been referring to Hannah's intellectual abilities, but then again, she was fairly certain she already knew her potential in that area. "Or was it something else?"

Mr. Gold was ready to admit that he hadn't meant Hannah's academic ability, but as he studied her more closely, he realized there was a glimmer of something in her eye. The way she'd said 'something else' clicked, and he adopted a knowing look. "Something happened," he surmised.

"Nothing happened," Hannah said immediately, with such conviction that anyone other than Mr. Gold would have believed her in a heartbeat.

"Uh-uh-uh," he drawled with a hint of a sly smile. "You might be able to fool your family, but I'm not them. _Something_ happened."

"Nothing happened," she ground out.

"It seems things are progressing much faster than I'd anticipated," he continued as if she hadn't said anything. "Interesting."

Frustrated that her question had remained unanswered, Hannah took a step toward the door. Clearly she wasn't going to find out what she'd wanted to find out, and continuing the conversation would be a massive waste of time. She and Henry needed to get back to the apartment soon anyway. "Thank you for speaking with me," she said, not meaning a word of it but figuring it was best to remain polite. She knew of Mr. Gold's past, both in the Enchanted Forest and in Storybrooke, and while the others seemed to believe he'd turned a new leaf since the latest curse, Hannah didn't trust him. Best not to provoke him. "Have a wonderful day." Grasping Henry's hand, Hannah strode out of the shop.

"What was that about?" Henry prodded once Hannah let go of his hand, a half block away from their previous location.

"Nothing," insisted Hannah. "I was just curious about what he'd said, and wanted to ask him about it while I was thinking of it."

"Were you thinking of the other morning when we found Emma?"

Hannah shook her head. "Of course not. We already agreed that whatever it was, it had nothing to do with me because I don't have magic."

"You insisted," Henry clarified. "I disagreed, but it seemed pointless trying to argue otherwise. I don't know if you've noticed how stubborn you can be..."

She knew she had a stubborn streak, but Hannah chose to ignore the gentle jab. "No." She rolled her eyes. "It couldn't have been me. I'm already freakishly advanced in school. What are the odds that I'd have another freak ability?"

Henry smirked. "In this town? Pretty good, I'd say."

"It wasn't me," she repeated. "Anyway, you promised not to tell anyone about what happened, so we might as well forget about it." Hannah glanced at her watch. "We've got fifteen minutes to get home. Mom will never let me out without an adult again if we're late."

"This conversation isn't over," Henry warned, arching an eyebrow much like his mother and grandparents.

More than a little unnerved, Hannah sighed. Of course Henry wouldn't drop it. "I know," she admitted in a low voice. "You're just as stubborn as I am."


	21. Chapter 21

Several days later, Hannah was still reeling from everything that had happened. The Snow Queen had been defeated; Anna, Elsa, and Kristoff had returned to Arendelle; Mr. Gold, it turned out, had been conspiring against everyone else. The sorcerer had been about to sacrifice Hook for the sake of a spell when Belle, of all people, had stopped him, using the Dark One dagger. He was gone now – banished from Storybrooke. Hannah felt frustrated that the one person who could answer her questions was forever out of her reach.

The rest of the town's residents had relaxed considerably, and Storybrooke now resembled how Hannah pictured every other small town in America. Emma and David went off to the sheriff's station in the morning. Henry and Hannah rode the bus to and from school. Mary Margaret had yet to return to work, but everyone seemed to be easing back to what Hannah considered 'normal'. No one mentioned Ingrid, Mr. Gold, or anything reminiscent of the chaos they'd experienced since Hannah's arrival. Despite how much she'd craved a sense of normalcy, the sudden shift felt odd to Hannah.

Nonetheless, she did her best to adjust, throwing herself into school with a renewed zeal. Miss Kirkland had been doing a decent job of providing Hannah with activities that were a bit more intellectually stimulating and challenging than what the rest of the class was doing. Most days, Hannah had some sort of homework, and she'd taken to completing her homework up in her bedroom (which she shared with Henry half of the time). Up there, she could temporarily block out distractions – Mary Margaret fussing over Neal and the occasional mushy moments between Emma and Hook, for example.

Normal had done nothing to alleviate Hannah's insecurities, unfortunately.

A little over a week had passed when Hannah awoke feeling a way she hadn't felt in a while – groggy, achy, and absolutely certain she was coming down with something. Sighing, she pushed herself out of bed and walked over to the top of the stairs to glance down at the main living area. Mary Margaret was shuffling around in the kitchen. Henry had spent the previous night at Regina's, so Hannah wasn't surprised not to see him. She _was_ surprised not to see any sign of Emma or David. A quick glance at the clock on her nightstand revealed she'd slept nearly 30 minutes later than she normally did. It was odd that Mary Margaret hadn't come to wake her, but it did mean Hannah had a limited amount of time to get ready before she had to leave to catch the bus.

Feeling the way she did, Hannah would normally prefer to stay in bed. However, school had surprisingly become a haven for her since Miss Kirkland had begun challenging her. At school, she didn't have to dwell on her insecurities over Neal and the other members of her family. And so, despite her urge to crawl back under the covers, Hannah moved across her bedroom to retrieve a clean set of school clothes before descending the stairs. If she could time things just right, Hannah could avoid drawing any unnecessary attention from Mary Margaret before she had to leave for school. If Mary Margaret knew she was feeling unwell, there was no question she'd send Hannah right back up to bed.

"Good morning, Mom," Hannah murmured as she strode across the breakfast area to the bathroom.

"Good morning, Hannah!" Mary Margaret replied in a cheery voice. "I was about to come wake you. You're going to be late if you don't hurry."

"I know," Hannah agreed before entering the cozy bathroom.

Despite her words to Mary Margaret, Hannah took her time in the shower, allowing the warm water to temporarily soothe her aches. She hoped to have just enough time after emerging from the bathroom to grab a piece of toast or something else quick on her way out the door. Hannah didn't have much of an appetite, but admitting that to Mary Margaret would surely raise red flags.

Nearly a half hour later, Hannah studied her reflection in the mirror. She'd taken her time drying off and separating her hair into two neat braids before easing into her uniform. Hannah thought her face looked a bit flushed, but then again, it was still warm in the bathroom. With any luck she could blame it on the damp bathroom air. At least the warm water had given her a small energy boost.

A knock on the door startled her. "Hannah, you're going to miss your bus!"

Hannah knew that missing her bus would just give Mary Margaret a greater chance of realizing something was amiss. Taking a deep breath, Hannah opened the door and strode over to her shoes so she could slip them on. "Sorry," she offered as she secured the straps on her black Mary Janes.

A moment later, Mary Margaret stood beside her, Hannah's backpack in one hand and lunchbox in the other. "I added a couple of muffins and an orange to your lunch. Please make sure you eat on the way to school."

"I will," promised the eleven-year-old. She slung the backpack over her shoulder (nearly wincing in the process) and grasped the lunchbox in her hand. "I love you!" she said as cheerfully as she could before sprinting out the door. She kept up the pace until she reached the courtyard just outside the building. There, she paused to catch her breath and clear a tickle from her throat before walking to the bus stop at a more leisurely pace.

* * *

Although school had recently become a welcome distraction, Hannah found herself unable to concentrate as the minutes dragged on like hours. Every inch of her body had begun to ache, from her head down to her toes, and the room felt uncomfortably warm. To the girl's dismay, her nose was beginning to feel a little stuffy. They were working independently that morning, so at least Hannah was able to work on her own assignments instead of having to collaborate with any of her classmates. Still, reading about U.S. history wasn't proving at all productive.

The words on the page blurred for the third time in as many minutes. Blinking, Hannah lifted a hand to rub her eyes. As her vision cleared a bit, she noticed Miss Kirkland in her peripheral vision. The young teacher had knelt down beside her.

"Are you all right?" murmured Miss Kirkland, concern evident in her voice.

It occurred to Hannah that it might look like she'd been crying. Mustering up a small smile, she gave a slight nod. "Just tired."

Hannah was caught off guard when Miss Kirkland reached out to gently press the back of her hand against Hannah's forehead. "Oh sweetie, you're warm. You need to go see the nurse."

"I'm okay," Hannah insisted, despite the fact that she felt anything but fine.

"You're going to the nurse," Miss Kirkland repeated. Shifting, she set a hand on Rachel's shoulder, speaking in a voice too soft to be heard by the others. "Rachel, please walk Hannah down to the nurse."

"Yes, Miss Kirkland," Rachel agreed at once, casting a concerned look at her friend.

Hannah wanted to protest further, but her desire not to attract attention outweighed her desire to avoid the nurse, even though a visit to the nurse would certainly result in her being sent home. She wasn't a doctor, but Hannah couldn't imagine feeling this crummy and not having a temperature, and Miss Kirkland had even decided she felt warm. Rising to her feet, Hannah followed Rachel toward the door, remaining silent until they were in the hallway and the door was securely shut. Only then did she let out a soft sigh.

"You don't look like you feel well," Rachel remarked in a soft voice as they made their way toward the clinic.

"I'm just tired," Hannah insisted. "I didn't sleep very well last night."

Rachel frowned. "Why didn't you stay home?"

Hannah shook her head, immediately regretting the decision as her head throbbed. "I didn't want to stay home."

She could tell Rachel wanted to say something more, but to Hannah's dismay, they'd reached the clinic entrance. "I'm fine," Hannah assured her friend. "The nurse will probably send me right back to class in a couple of minutes." Reaching for the door handle, she offered Rachel a smile before opening the door and stepping inside the cozy room, leaving the other girl in the hallway.

Several beds lined one side of the room, while a desk and a handful of chairs lined the opposite side. Hannah sank into the nearest chair and wrapped her arms around her chest as she shivered. She felt drowsy, but she refused to lie down on one of the clinic beds.

"What's wrong, honey?" the nurse asked as she made her way over to Hannah. She was a short, plump woman, older than Mary Margaret but not old enough to be a grandmother, with warm brown eyes and a kind face.

"Miss Kirkland sent me," Hannah mumbled.

The nurse pursed her lips. "You don't look like you're feeling well. Here…" She retrieved a thermometer from the desk. "Hold this under your tongue."

Not one to openly defy an adult at school, Hannah allowed the nurse to place the thermometer under her tongue and waited calmly. It was old-fashioned, a thin glass tube with a mercury core, so Hannah knew it would be several minutes.

Once the nurse had removed the thermometer, Hannah leaned her head back against the wall. The nurse made a soft hum, but Hannah tuned her out, letting her eyes droop sleepily. She had no doubt that she'd be sent home, so given the circumstances, Hannah decided not to fight the urge to rest.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but Hannah was nearly asleep when an unexpected voice startled her.

"Hannah."

She jumped slightly in her chair as her eyes flew open. "David?" she asked in a groggy voice. "What are you doing here?" She'd expected her father to pick her up since she was sure her mom was too busy with Neal to drive to the school, but seeing David was a bit of a relief. She had no doubt that Whale would step into doctor mode the moment he saw her, and Hannah didn't have the energy to fight him.

David squatted down in front of her so that he was at her eye level. "I'm here to take you home. How are you feeling, kiddo?"

Hannah shrugged her shoulders. She watched as he reached a hand out and gently pressed the back of it against her cheek; her eyes fluttered closed at how nice his cool touch felt against her skin.

"Come on." Reaching out, he gently helped Hannah to her feet. "Let's get you home."

She didn't object as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her out to his pickup truck. As soon as Hannah was settled into the passenger seat, seatbelt buckled, she leaned over so that her temple rested against the cool window glass.

The trip was brief, but Hannah still managed to doze off along the way. When she next opened her eyes, she was slowly ascending the stairs to the apartment. "David…" she whined softly. Despite how icky she felt, she still took offense to being carried like a baby.

"Shhh," he hushed her. "Close your eyes and rest. You'll be in your bed in just a minute."

Hannah wanted to argue further, but her body felt heavy, and arguing felt like far too much work. She didn't fight as her eyes grew heavier.

She heard the door open and close, Mary Margaret's voice, the sensation of being carried up more stairs, and finally sinking onto something soft. A blanket was pulled over her body, temporarily quelling the overwhelming chill she felt; Hannah curled up on her side, embracing the sudden warmth. Mumbling something unintelligible, Hannah succumbed to sleep once more.

* * *

The apartment was silent when Hannah awoke. Every inch of her throbbed and just pulling her arms out from beneath the covers sent chills throughout her body, but she really had to pee. As she slowly pushed herself up so that she was sitting, she realized two things. First, she was still wearing her school uniform. Second, that uniform was making her skin hurt even worse.

She managed to pull herself out of bed and shuffle over to the dresser, where she pulled out a long-sleeved t-shirt, an oversized sweatshirt, and drawstring sweatpants. Soft, fuzzy socks replaced her school socks. It seemed to take ages for her to change, but finally she was wearing less constrictive clothing. She still hurt like hell, but at least her clothing wasn't pressing against her skin in most places.

Holding onto the railing for dear life, Hannah slowly lowered her right foot to the nearest step, allowing her left foot to join on that step. Then the left foot traveled to the next step, her right foot joining after. She repeated this process until at last, she'd reached the bottom. She shuffled over to the bathroom, just barely making it in time.

A couple minutes later the girl emerged, surveying the apartment. She hadn't heard Mary Margaret or Neal since awaking, which she thought was odd. Stepping into the kitchen, Hannah had a clear view of the other bedroom. Mary Margaret was curled up on her side, asleep, as Neal slept beside her on the mattress. A lump formed in Hannah's throat, and she fought not to make a sound as tears blurred her vision. The sight of them sleeping there brought up a memory Hannah had repressed long ago. She couldn't be there. She just couldn't.

Turning, she shuffled silently over to the door, wincing as she squeezed her feet into her sneakers. As quietly as she could, she turned the knob, opened the door, and crept out to the stairwell, closing the door just as carefully. She had no idea where she was going, and she felt woozy, but Hannah once again held onto the railing and, one painstaking step at a time, made her way down to the ground level.

Just outside the stairwell was a small, shaded courtyard. Hannah sat on a cushioned wicker sofa, any energy she'd had before now gone. A cool breeze blew through the courtyard, and Hannah shivered again. Exhausted, she lifted her feet and curled up on her side, hugging herself tighter to keep warm. In spite of the circumstances, her eyelids felt heavy, and Hannah drifted off to sleep once more.

* * *

"Do you think she's feeling better?"

Emma slid out of the driver's seat of her yellow VW beetle before reaching back inside for the tray of hot cocoas from Granny's. It had come as little surprise that Henry would be worried about Hannah upon learning of her illness and early departure from school, and he'd insisted when Emma picked him up after school that they bring cocoa with cinnamon. "I don't know, kid," she told him as she closed the passenger side door. He was already standing on the curb, watching her expectantly. "David said she had a fever, but he didn't give me much more information other than she was asleep when he left."

Henry walked ahead of her, and Emma carefully walked around her car, watching her steps so she wouldn't trip and spill the cocoa. She'd just stepped up onto the car when she heard Henry call out to her.

"Mom… it's Hannah!"

Looking up quickly, Emma spotted Henry in the courtyard beside a figure curled up on the patio furniture. "What the hell?" she muttered to herself, quickening her steps until she'd reached them.

"What's Hannah doing out here?"

Balancing the cocoa in one hand, Emma reached the other down to feel Hannah's forehead. "I don't know, kid, but she's burning up. Here, take the cocoa." She handed the tray off to Henry before crouching down, rubbing Hannah's shoulder gently. "Hannah."

Hannah's eyelids fluttered, and her eyes cracked open. "Emma…?" she croaked out, her voice hoarse.

"What are you doing out here? You should be in bed."

"Don't wanna," Hannah mumbled, letting her eyelids droop until they were once again closed.

The response made zero sense to Emma, who couldn't figure for the life of her why the kid would prefer to be curled up on a hard bench in the breezy spring air instead of buried under a mountain of blankets, particularly when it appeared she was trying to keep warm. She could wait to find out after getting the kid inside, though. "Well, you aren't staying out here. Come on, let's get you upstairs."

Hannah made no move to get up or to even open her eyes again. "Nuh uh."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "I hate to break it to you, Hannah, but you really don't have a choice in the matter." Before Hannah could say anything, Emma reached down, hooking one arm under Hannah's legs and the other behind her back, carefully lifting Hannah into her arms. Emma made a mental note that the kid was lighter than she looked. She watched in mild amusement as Hannah's eyes snapped open.

" _Eeemmmmmaaaaaaaa_ …" came an impressively drawn out whine, though it ended abruptly as Hannah barely covered her mouth in time to avoid coughing in her sister's face. She hadn't coughed much that day, but the whine had left an incessant tickle in her throat. "Put me _doooowwwwnnnn_!"

"Will you walk upstairs on your own if I put you down?"

Hannah turned her head away from Emma. "I don't wanna go upstairs…"

"Then I'm not putting you down."

Being carried up the stairs like a toddler was becoming an awful habit, Hannah thought, but it became worse when she heard Emma speak to Henry. How embarrassing for Henry to see her being carried like that! Still, Hannah didn't have the energy to put up much resistance. Emma was already carrying her, and on her best day, Hannah would have a hard time winning an argument with her older sister. She reached up to rub some of the sleep from her eyes, realizing belatedly how it made her look even more babyish.

"Hannah?" Mary Margaret's eyes were wide with alarm as Emma carried the kid through the door, followed closely by Henry. "What's going on? I thought you were asleep upstairs!"

"Henry and I found her sleeping in the courtyard outside," Emma explained as she headed for the stairs. "I'm not sure how high her fever was earlier, but she's burning up."

Mary Margaret darted into the bathroom, emerging quickly later with a thermometer and an unopened box of Children's Tylenol. By the time Mary Margaret reached the top of the stairs, Emma was gently setting Hannah on the bed while Henry stood near, looking worried.

"Emma, would you call Dr. Whale?"

"No…" Hannah protested at once as Emma pulled out her cell phone, though it lacked any of the punch she'd hoped for.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Mary Margaret pressed the back of her hand against Hannah's cheek, then leaned over to lightly kiss her forehead. "Emma wasn't exaggerating. Your skin is on fire. What on earth were you doing outside, Hannah?"

"Don't call Dad…" she tried again.

"He's coming," Mary Margaret said in a firm voice as she set down the medicine and held the thermometer – a digital model Hannah was more accustomed to seeing – close to Hannah's mouth. "Under your tongue."

Hannah stubbornly pressed her lips together as she made a sound that she hoped conveyed her disapproval over the situation.

"Would you rather wait for your father?"

She most certainly would rather _not_. Sighing, Hannah reached for the thermometer, slipping it under her tongue as she frowned spectacularly. She half expected a scolding as she waited for the thermometer to beep; instead, she watched in surprise as her mother reached over to brush the hair from her face with her fingers. Still sleepy, Hannah's eyes fluttered. In spite of the pain wracking her entire body, the motion felt good – Mary Margaret's fingers felt cool, in stark contrast to the heat of Hannah's own skin, and her touch was light enough that it didn't hurt.

Despite the warmth in the loft, particularly compared to outside, Hannah shivered. Before she could reach for the quilt, Mary Margaret was pulling the covers up over her, tucking them gently around her shoulders so that the only part of her uncovered was her head. Hannah shifted her head to watch Emma, dismayed that she'd reached Whale. She could only hear Emma's side of the conversation, but Hannah didn't need to hear her dad to know that he'd be there soon. It would be too much to hope that he'd settle for giving medical advice over the phone.

The thermometer beeped, and Hannah watched as Mary Margaret lifted the slender tool so she could read the small digital screen.

Emma tucked her phone in her pocket. "Whale's on his way," she announced as if it hadn't already been a given. "How high is her temperature?"

Mary Margaret handed the thermometer to Emma and reached for the Tylenol box, opening the package and pulling out a bottle of red liquid and a small medicine cup. Hannah barely registered what Mary Margaret was doing as she watched Emma with interest. "What's my temperature?" she mumbled. Even in her current haze, she needed to know what to expect when her father got there. A temperature of 100 or 101 wouldn't be so bad. Higher, and she might start to worry that he'd want to drag her to the hospital instead of letting her stay at home.

"Yikes," Emma said softly. "One hundred two."

Well crap. That didn't bode well for her.

"Here," Mary Margaret said, pouring some of the red liquid into the small plastic cup. "Drink this."

Hannah didn't need to be told twice. Normally, she'd put up a fight over any medicine that might leave her feeling drowsy or loopy, but seeing as how she already felt loopy, Hannah didn't see any point in arguing. She swallowed the medicine in one quick gulp before handing Mary Margaret the empty cup.

As Mary Margaret moved to comb back Hannah's hair again, she heard Neal cry loudly from the downstairs bedroom. Almost immediately Hannah rolled away from her onto her side, curling up into a ball. The sudden movement caught Mary Margaret off guard, as she'd half expected Hannah to drift off to sleep any moment. She looked over at Emma, expecting to find her elder daughter just as surprised, but Emma seemed like she'd anticipated this turn of events.

Meeting her mother's gaze, Emma offered a small smile. She was fairly certain she knew what was going on with Hannah, though Mary Margaret clearly didn't. She'd have to talk to her about it later, but for now, she knew Mary Margaret needed to stay there with Hannah. "I'll get him," she said gently. "C'mon kid," she told Henry, moving toward the stairs.

"Thank you," murmured Mary Margaret. She stared at the back of her middle child's head, concerned. "Hannah?" If Hannah heard her, she gave no indication. "Hannah, honey, look at me."

Slowly the child shifted back onto her back, and Mary Margaret was horrified to see tears in Hannah's eyes. "What's wrong?"

Hannah shook her head lightly, but it was still enough to make her head throb. She didn't want to talk about it. She couldn't possibly explain to Mary Margaret just how she was feeling. "Nothing," she mumbled.

"It certainly isn't nothing Hannah." Gently, Mary Margaret used the pads of her thumbs to wipe away the tears that had spilled out. "Please talk to me."

"Neal n-n-needs you," whispered Hannah. "Y-you should go get him."

Mary Margaret shook her head. "Neal is fine with Emma. Right now, you need me."

"I'm okay… I'm n-not that s-s-sick."

"Are you trying to get rid of me, Hannah?" Mary Margaret asked, running her fingers through the girl's hair once more. She couldn't understand why Hannah would try to push her away, particularly when she was feeling miserable, and then suddenly it clicked. Gazing down at her daughter, she couldn't believe she hadn't seen it before. Hannah's behavior had been glaringly obvious since Neal's birth, and yet she hadn't understood until now. The realization made her feel like a horrible mother. "Listen to me," she said in a tender voice. "You are just as important as Neal is, and I love you just as much. I know he has monopolized my attention lately, and I am _so_ sorry if I've ever made you feel like you aren't as cherished as he is."

She'd never expected to hear her mother acknowledge her feelings out loud – she'd really never expected her mother to realize just how she was feeling – but it chipped away part of the wall she'd put up to protect herself. "I know he's special, because he's still a baby and I wasn't with you as a baby…"

"You are _just as important_ ," Mary Margaret repeated, her tone more firm this time. She leaned over to kiss Hannah's forehead. "Get some rest. Your father will be here soon to check on you, and I'm staying right here."

"He doesn't need to check on me…" Hannah muttered through a yawn.

"He's coming anyway," Mary Margaret replied gently as she stroked Hannah's head. "Rest."

Tired as she was, she didn't want to fall asleep before Whale got there. It was unlikely that he would travel with any needles, but Hannah wasn't about to take any chances. Her eyes grew heavy, but in spite of Mary Margaret's insistence that Hannah sleep, the eleven-year-old forced herself to remain alert, inching her hands out from beneath the covers just long enough to rub her eyes again.

After several long minutes she heard the door open and close downstairs. She had her suspicions as to what was happening, but there was always the chance that Henry had decided to go outside, or that perhaps David had returned home, so Hannah held out hope. She listened to the sound of footsteps on the wood floors, then the sound changed as whoever it was climbed the stairs. The Henry theory was out, but David was still a possibility.

When she finally saw who it was, Hannah groaned softly.

"That's quite the welcome," Whale remarked, his tone light despite the sarcasm in his words.

"I'm fine," Hannah muttered. "I'm just a little under the weather."

"Hmm. Is that what you call having to leave school early because you have an impressive fever? 'Under the weather'?"

The continued sarcasm wasn't at all appreciated, but she didn't have the energy to banter. Instead, she pulled the covers tighter around her shoulders. "You can take my temperature, but that's it," she told him.

Whale claimed Mary Margaret's previous position on the bed. "Is that so?" he asked mildly as he pressed his hands lightly against Hannah's cheeks to gauge their warmth. Immediately he glanced back at Mary Margaret. "What was her temperature when you last checked?"

"Just over 102. I gave her some Children's Tylenol. That was about 10 minutes ago."

"How about at school?"

"David said it had been a little over 100."

Whale frowned. "I don't like how quickly her temperature rose. For now, check her temperature every hour. Hopefully the Tylenol will bring it down a little." He turned back to Hannah. "Do you hurt at all?"

She nodded her head softly.

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

He gently pressed his fingers against the sides of Hannah's neck. "Owww!" she protested at the sudden pain. Untangling her arms and hands from the covers, she grabbed at his hands to pull them away from her throat.

"Any other symptoms?" he continued, a bit concerned by Hannah's reaction. "Coughing? Sneezing? Congestion?"

"A little stuffy…" Hannah admitted with a frown as she pulled the covers up to her chin.

"I suspect Hannah has the flu," he said, glancing back at Mary Margaret. "If that's the case, it will just have to run its course. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and fluids, and you can give her the Tylenol every four hours to help with her fever and the aches and pains. However, if her temperature reaches 103, I want her at the hospital immediately." Whale turned once more to address Hannah. "Did you hear that, Hannah? If your fever gets worse, you're coming to the hospital and I won't hear any arguments about it."

Pouting, Hannah turned her head away. Hell would have to freeze over before she agreed to _that_. However, Whale reached out and gently nudged her chin back around with his fingertips until she had to look at him. "Do you understand me, Hannah?" he repeated, his voice firm but kind.

"I heard you!" she grumped, curling up on her side, her back toward him. She half expected to hear a few stern words over her less than polite response, but instead she felt Whale smooth back her hair.

"I'll be back to check on her tonight," Whale told Mary Margaret. "Call me if any new symptoms arise before then."

Hannah heard footsteps, and seconds later her father was standing in front of her on the opposite side of the bed. He crouched down so they were face to face. "Cooperate with your mom," he said gently. "I'll come by later to see how you're feeling." Leaning over, he kissed the top of her head. "I love you."

She was still miffed about his ultimatum, but it was nice to feel doted on, and it hadn't escaped Hannah's notice that he was being exceptionally patient with her given her attitude. "Love you too," she murmured.


End file.
